


But You Refused

by catharsis96



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Bullying, Drama, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Friendship, Frisk Is Bullied at School, Love, Multi, No Tentacles, Poor Reader, Reader Is Not Frisk, Romance, Slow Burn, Smoking, and skeleton trash in general, bad skeleton-puns, but dirty skeleton trash here, don't even ask, frisk is a boy, hate to admit, hi, homeless Reader, if you get the hint, let's sin together, most important thing:, ok where do i even start, plottwist of 2k16, probably ectodick, room mate, room mate is a disgusting flower, skeleton-puns, smoking skeleton, we're the sin-ship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-13 11:12:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5705560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catharsis96/pseuds/catharsis96
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because being a good human isn't as easy as books, TV series or the horoscope show it to be.</p>
<p>And you were going to experience that rather painfully.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Once Upon A Time...

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO FELLOW SINNERS.  
> And welcome to my very first english project! Gosh, I don't even know where to start but please leave some feedback on my language and point out my mistakes.  
> You're all awesome! NGAAAAAAAH!

With your shoulders risen to your chin, you stomped through the narrow, dark alley that led to your home. Well, 'home' wasn't quite the right term for the old, rundown one-room-apartment you got a year ago from that suspicious, peculiar guy that introduced himself as a renter and whom you'd never seen again since then. It was too expensive with absolute no furniture but you still coaxed yourself into buying it because hey, it was better than living on the street with the other homeless people who'd steal the little shit you called your 'belongings'. It was good to have a more or less safe place even though it always smelled like mould and mothballs. At least it was dry enough for you to stay as healthy as you could. Winter was approaching, the air was already filled with the smell of dry leaves and snow. Thinking about the harsh, cold season you couldn't restrain yourself from pulling your thin jacket tighter around your body.

The next months were going to be shit.

 

But well, you had no other option but to prepare everything for that shitty time, including looking for some sort of fabrics you could use as blankets. Oh and you had to get food. Food that preferably wasn't rotten or gnawed off by some dirty animals.

Thinking about all those things made you really frustrated – but you couldn't be blamed. No one would want to swap their life with yours because to simply put it in one sentence if you hadn't noticed it yet: Your life was like shit.

Cheating yourself through days, wasting your time searching for some edible leftovers in reeking garbage cans. This wasn't what people called 'the perfect life'. But hell, you didn't give a single fuck about the opinions of other humans because you knew exactly what hideous, screwed creatures they were. Funny thing: since the last year they weren't the only species on this planet with a smart brain and the ability to communicate through speech.

 

A year ago monsters had risen from Mt. Ebott.

Yes. _Monsters_.

Monsters with wings. Monsters with fangs and claws. Monsters with blue, pink, green, yellow skin. Monsters who had lived under Mt. Ebott for an eternity without humans noticing. Or more like without humans giving an effort to remember how it was when monsters lived with them back in the medieval ages. It was until a young child – you didn't even know its name – fell into the mountain and went through a hell of an adventure to break a magical barrier (?) and to give those monsters freedom.

You wouldn't call it like that though.

Yes, they weren't trapped inside some dark, big cavern anymore but instead they had to deal with the governments and their rules and this strange behaviour of humans who thought that everything and everyone who was different equaled strange, evil and hate.

It didn't took the first people to act.

Assaults on monsters became a regular thing, the police didn't know how to help since a common excuse was: “No, it attacked me! That monster attacked me!” So what do you think, who did the police trust? Spoiler: not monsters.

 

You wished they'd never come up here. You couldn't even imagine all the hopes they brought with them - now shattered because humans were ugly and selfish. But wow, here they are and well. Why not just live with that.

 

By the way, there's something I forgot to tell.

You don't live alone in that crappy room. Yeah, forgot to mention, that you actually have a room mate! A very grumpy, ill-humoured and somehow sassy flower.

Yes, a flower. A Golden Flower. It's an ugly, hateful little thing that nags and threatens you all day and throws bad words around as if they were its bullets, hoping they'd pierce right through you and damage your heart and your soul and everything you're made of.

Little dude doesn't know yet what shit you've already heard in your life so you just ignore him, sometimes you even cover it with a blanket and then it'd be pissed but well, you got your silence.

 

 

Actually, since I've started talking about that rude flower... I might as well start from the beginning.


	2. Flowers Do Speak A Language

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which you meet a certain, asshole-flower

It was hot as fuck, you were hungry and this son of a bitch claimed this alley to be his personal territory like you were in a freaking zoo and he could just own some piece of this ugly, feculent street. Yeah, you were kinda pissed. Especially since you hadn't eaten in days and you could literally feel how your stomach turned upside down to... to what? Eat itself? Ha, nice try.

Scrunching your nose because the stink burned in your nostrils and made your eyes tear up, you straightened your body as much as possible; raising yourself to hopefully appear more intimidating. You couldn't afford to look weak and miserable.

 

“Come on, buddy. Let me look through some of the garbage and I'll be off your back,” you said and watched as the man, a hunched guy with so much grease in his dark hair that you could get oil from it - but you probably didn't look better to be honest - gave you a smug grin and slowly shook his head. His teeth were yellow and some were missing – either lost in a fight or because of his lack of dental hygiene. Maybe both.

If it was necessary, you were obliged to punch the remaining ones out. Maybe then he would let you go through.

 

“Not gonna happen, missy. That shit here's my shit and if you wanna get something you better try somewhere else,” the guy refused, throwing an 'if-glares-could-kill” glare at you that only added more fuel to your anger. Like it was some sort of a problem for you to search for food to survive!

 

“Come one, I'm not looking for trouble,” you groaned and it took everything in you to not roll your eyes when the guy in front of you grunted as if it was the most obvious thing that he was definitely stronger than you. Jerk.

Okay, maybe it was true. Maybe you couldn't physically handle a grown man. But that didn't mean you wouldn't try.

 

“I'll give you ten seconds to get your butt off my street, or else I'll move it.”

Well without that ugly smirk he actually looked kind of threatening. You took a deep breath, thinking about every possible offer you could make. You had nothing. The moment you opened your mouth, the guy launched at you with wide arms and spread fingers as if he wanted to strangle or scratch you like a mad cat. It took you by surprise of course when he started to yell some pretty nasty insults and there's nothing for you to do but to run away and hope he'd choke on some stinky leftovers.

Nice fight you'd put up there.  
I'm proud.

 

Okay, you needed a Plan B.

Something that included succeed and excluded fury homeless guys with fingernails long enough to scratch your eyeballs out of their sockets. How bad no one told you that being an orphan and taking care of yourself was that hard, huh. No one prepared you for this, huh? I mean, it was kind of your own fault, don't you think? Challenging this old witch that called herself the warden and throwing food around during the launches because you knew that other children got better food than you. You didn't deserve it better. I'm sure now you regret your choices; miss that tasteless, dry food since you've got nothing.

 

Okay, don't give me that look. I know you regret it.

 

But regret won't bring you food and you know that too well.

 

 

Strolling through the streets, eyes always alerted and in search for the slightest opportunity to steal someone's wallet (ha, as if you'd ever get that right without being caught) you carry yourself through a small crowd of people. But not just only people. Monsters were amongst them.

It was strange, even though it was already six months ago since they emerged from Mt. Ebott and you couldn't get yourself used to it, but well.. what could you do? Go berserk and kill everyone, practising a genocide? Ha, as if it'd be that easy.

Kind of amused by your own silly thoughts, the corner of your eye caught a tall figure standing in front of a window, eyeing the products provided in the shop. It was a goat woman (?), dressed in a nice blue dress that suited the white colour of her fur. Her expression was soft, the hint of a smile was hidden on her lips and in her eyes. She looked so friendly and peaceful and oh- there are your feet moving your body towards her with your goal to steal the purse that shows itself in the basket she carries in her right hand.

 

Your mind was blank. The noises around you, the people. All you could focus on is the money and what delicious food you could by yourself and that this one night you wouldn't go to bed with this nagging starving feeling and you just knew that for a few hours everything was going to be alright. You were going to be alright.

Until you reached her.

Until she noticed you.

Until she looked right at you and your outstretched hand with those piercing, blue eyes because wow you were actually dumb enough to practice your non-existent stealth right in front of her.

Suddenly you felt the ground beneath your feet disappear and you felt like you were going to throw up right on her feet. Now that would surely be embarrassing, huh?

 

“My child, can I help you?” the woman asked with a soft, yet strict voice that implied that yes, she definitely knew what you were trying. But instead of calling for the police she rather seemed to solve this herself. Your hand snapped back at the side of your body and you just stared at the cute patterns on her dress. Why are you not even running?

“Are you lost? Were are your parents?” she continued and this time you looked up at her and she was giving you this look that totally checked you out: the dirt on your face, the old clothes that were too big for you and the entire appearance of you that already screamed how pathetic you were. There probably even was an 'orphan' and 'homeless' written in a bright colour on your forehead. You pressed your lips into a thin line, refusing yourself to give in into those kind eyes that now changed to genuine worry.

 

“If you need help-” the woman started but you quickly shook your head, murmured a quiet “Sorry” and spun around to let yourself get swallowed by the crowd, just as you should had done it the moment she noticed your theft. Oh, but big surprise! She was fast. Very fast, so when you felt a big, strong hand around your wrist, you actually feared she'd break it. You turned around, ready to beg for mercy but there was no fierce, evil expression on her face. She just smiled at you, a little sad if you had to be more precise, and then she did something you'd never expected a living creature on this planet to do: She took her purse, opened it with a soft 'click' and then she handed you some bank notes. You stared at her. She stared back. It seemed she was surprised by your baffled expression, but the soft smile came back and she cupped your hand with hers, giving you a gentle squeeze.

“Take it and don't let anyone else see it,” she murmured in her soothing, nice voice and you opened your mouth to honestly tell her that you couldn't take it. It was her money! … even though you tried to steal it a few minutes ago. But this genuine kindness and benevolence struck you and you could only stammer an incomprehensible “Thank you, miss.”.

She let go of your hand, nodding as if to reassure you that it was alright and with that you turned your back on her and withdrew yourself into the dark shadows of an alley.

 

It was still unbelievable. You were even too afraid to count the bills because what if it was just a prank and those weren't even real and wow then you'd probably just jump off a bridge because you seriously were looking for a good meal today and you got yourself fooled by an old monster-lady and her feigned kindness.

But no, when you went to one of those fast-food shops and ordered yourself a menu, they took the money, prepared everything and you got your food. It was amazing. It was a feeling you couldn't quite describe. Maybe I should give you a hint and you could start with gratitude? Gratitude to that lady and to another day you can live on and try to figure out how you're going to change everything because we both know you won't be able to go on like this much longer. Don't give me that look. I know you. But maybe you should forget for a few minutes how much you suck at this thing called 'living' and I don't know... enjoy your meal.

 

 

Your stomach was thanking you that it indeed was allowed to receive proper food when you went back to your apartment. Luckily it was summer and you didn't need to worry about freezing to death at nights. Right now it actually sounded like a good idea to sleep, getting comfortable on your worn-out mattress that smelled like cat piss. Maybe you'd get something tomorrow that could make that smell go away. Nah, who were you kidding. You were probably going to get more fast-food.

Turning in to the street that led to your room, you noticed two teenagers rummaging through the garbage and you weren't even surprised by it because this area was known for its huge amount of homeless people covering all ages. What really caught you interest though was that they didn't seem to look for something. It was more like . . .

 

“What a pathetic thing it is!” one of them laughed and you could make out something yellow beneath the dirty boots of the taller boy. The other one joined into spiteful cackle.

“You know, we should do more to it,” the latter excitedly shook his friend's arm. “How about we burn it?”  
“Yeah, Let's dust it.”

 

Now, here is something I did not expect you to do. Was it because you were thinking of that friendly lady from before? How she, a monster, didn't know you, a human, and still helped you? Did you feel some kind of responsibility?  
Or was it because there was still some little hope left in your soul. Hope that didn't give up the idea that you could be a better person if you tried?

Whatever those reasons were, you were moving. Moving to those guys, waving your arms like a lunatic.

  
“They're coming!!” you screamed at the top of your lungs and the boys whirled around to face you in irritation and surprise. “Holy shit, the monsters are coming and oh my god, I think they saw what you did to their friend and now they're gonna get you!” With you arms thrown over your head, you tried to show them how huge the impact on their doing was. A few nervous and wondering looks were guided at you, then at the alley behind you as if they were waiting to see, if your words were true. At least the smaller one had enough of waiting and tugged at his friend's sleeve.  
“Come on, bro. We'll find another place to hang around, right? Gave the monster what it deserved.”

They retreated and you waited until they were completely gone before you let out a relieved sigh.

 

“Friends? What friends?”  
A small, raspy voice reached to you from below and you looked down to see a pretty, yellow.... flower? Well, it wasn't a normal flower since it talked but it still hit you with surprise and you took a step back.  
The flower agonizingly slow, as if it took its whole effort to do that simple movement, lifted its head and looked around with those small, black eyes until nothing happened and they landed on your form.  
“You lied,” it spat at you and even though you thought you had done a good job; you flinched back in guilt as if you were the one who'd caused the actual harm to that little creature.  
"Yes, I lied but I mean... they're gone. Those guys are gone,” you tried to justify yourself but it didn't seem to work as the flower continued to scold you: “Maybe I didn't want them to go! Maybe I wanted to die, you stupid, stupid IDIOT!”

Charming.

 

You felt your anger boil inside you like an ugly, spoiled soup.  
“Hold on, I helped you! Or do you like being stepped on by assholes?”  
“Like I said, maybe there was a purpose behind it, you IDIOT!”  
“Don't call me idiot, you ugly plant!”  
“Oh, would dumbass suit you better?”

  
You had never met such an offending flower before. In your rage you actually considered stepping on its face, but then you were certainly as bad as those two punks. So you swallowed your anger and bend down to pick up the flower. He clearly stated how much he disliked it: “What are you doing, you crazy human?! Put me down!”  
“Yeah, whatever...”  
“Put me down or I will kill you!”  
“Oh, I am so afraid.”  
  
You better should had been. But that was something you were going to find out later.

 

You took the flower to your apartment. The walls were thin and the door wasn't burglarproof but since you didn't have light anyway, people probably thought this room was unoccupied. Crossing the small room to your mattress that was spread on the ground, you threw yourself onto it and sighed exasperatedly. What a day. You were tired and there was nothing that could stop you from falling asleep right away and until afternoon.

Oh. Well, nothing except of that little rude monster.

 

“This room looks like shit.”  
“Yeah, so does your face.”  
It opened its mouth, probably to to give you a smug counter but after a moment it asked instead: “Why did you bring me here, human?”  
You seriously thought about it. Why DID you actually bring him to your home?  
“Listen”, you say and place the flower in front of you on the mattress. The flower wobbled as it tried to find its balance. It held itself upright on its roots but it was probably difficult for it with nothing like earth to actually root itself into. Maybe you could find something in the dumb.... “I don't know.”  
Your answer was honest and took the little guy a little off guard. It looked at you, black eyes narrowed (how was this even possible) and suspicious. His face (or at least what you assumed to be his face) was dirty, some of his yellow petals flat. After a while, he breathed a heavy sigh.

“You're such a weirdo. If you think I'm grateful or something like that, you're wrong.”

It was okay for you to not hear words of gratitude. You were bad at it either.

“Look, let me patch you up, find you a nice flowerpot and some soil and then I'm going to place you back were I found you so your friends can come and pick you up.”  
Upon mentioning his friends, the flower suddenly got very red in its face, a light flickered in its black eyes that resembled a brandished knife.

“Friends?” it spat. “I don't need friends. I'm not as pathetic as someone who has them!!”

Well that was an attitude. Reminds me of someone... yeah, I'm looking at you.

 

“We'll see tomorrow,” you yawned as you reached for the thin jacket you used as your pillow. As you turned your back to him, you heard it shuffling.

“You're just going to sleep? I might kill you in your sleep! You shouldn't trust anyone, you don't even know my name, idiot!!”  
“Well then, what is your name?” you asked after another yawn and it took some minutes for the flower to answer.

 

“I'm Flowey. Flowey the flower.”


	3. Determination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you made the probably worst decision in your entire life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SHIT'S ABOUT TO GO DOWN

You entered the small room on the ground-floor, ignoring how the thin door squeaked and groaned under your weight and its own age. It smelled as always: damp wood, old fabric, sweat and soil. The plastic bag, filled with leftovers you found in a garbage can behind a small bakery, slid on the ground and you dropped your body on the grey, dusty mattress. Some of the bedsprings drilled in your backside but you ignored it because the dry bread requested your whole attention and your stomach rumbled in happy anticipation. You took your first bite when a cranky, shrill voice by your side said: “You've been chilling in the garbage again? You smell awful.”

Flowey cranked its head in the direction of your lap to get a better look at your today's catch. Chewing on the tasteless mass, you threw him a bored look, knowing that little monster well enough already to know where this was going. You shrugged your shoulders lazily, tearing another piece of bread off the loaf and threw it in your mouth. It needed a lot of your saliva to make it edible, but you surely didn't complain.  
“You know, some people would consider that smell as charming”, you stated matter-of-factly and Flowey grunted. Its silence only lasted only a few seconds.  
“So, you're gonna share or what?”  
“Excuse me?”  
“You know, give me something of that crap!” it demanded and stretched its head to your hand to get some in its opened mouth. It was kind of cute to watch but we both know that you shouldn't mention that. How fortunate that you never listen to me.  
“Aw, look at you, trying to be dangerous and lethal,” you purred and there was an actual nerve throbbing on its forehead.  
“You idiot,” Flowey hissed and made a grimace that had frightened you the first times you'd seen it. But now you knew Flowey was luckily more talk than action, because you were quite sure that it was able to hurt you ... a lot. But apparently it wouldn't do so because even monsters needed food and though Flowey consumed water, it sometimes demanded solid food – like right now. “I could easily kill you. Would that make you happy?”  
You shrugged again. Finally you could swallow without your throat being ripped apart due to the dry, hard bread.  
“You could do it, but I have yet to see how you're going to get yourself water, champ” you countered and the creepy grimace disappeared and instead was replayed by an annoyed one. “Besides,” you continued and reached for a half-empty bottle that was filled with rain water you'd collected a few days ago, “you could just ask me kindly.”

There was this silence again. A few breaths later, Flower said with a sickening sweet voice: “Or you could just give it to me.”  
“Sorry, not going to happen, champ.”  
You winked at it, noticing how red it got in its face (was this even a biological thing that could happen to flowers?) and tugged some crumbs off the loaf.  
“It's just one word”, you tried to help Flowey frame the bid.  
“You're an asshole.”  
“Just six tiny letters.”  
“U idiot.”  
“Didn't know you could be funny.”  
Flowey let out an exasperated sigh and rolled its eyes. Then it let out a very quiet, whistle-like sound that suspiciously sounded like a plead.  
“Come again, please? I didn't quite catch that.”  
Oh, who was the real monster here, buddy?  
“Please?” Flowey muttered, facing the ground so it could escape your amused eyes.  
“Do you mean it?”  
“No!”  
You shrugged. He wouldn't give you something better so satisfied with that, you placed a tiny piece on its outstretched tongue. Flowey moved its mouth like you did early, producing saliva (did he even have saliva) so he was able to swallow it.

 

It was still kind of unbelievable, that you lived with a monster-flower. But it was good to have a little company, even though Flowey cursed and threatened you most of the time.  
Sometimes you wondered how that friendly goat-woman was doing. She was burned in your memory; engraved like the inscription on a gravestone. It wasn't the first time you thought of her because you tried to remember what her face looked like. The only term that came in your mind immediately was gentle. A gentle, soft face with blue, bright eyes. White, soft fur.  
You hoped she was healthy. Healthy and safe, somewhere far away from the monster-hating people that demanded that monsters should return to Mt. Ebott.

Now if I'd ask you, if you could imagine the future without monsters, what would be your answer? Going back to the time when only humans roamed the surface, believing they were the only powerful creatures. Are you able to do that? Or do you think this is like a chemical reaction – once it's started you're not able to go back to the original situation.  
So what do you think about the future? How will all of this end?  
Oh, I know this tensing of shoulders; this stern, motionless face you're making right now.  
You don't want to think about the future. You're happy to survive another day. Making plans, imagining what could be – it's terrifying.  
Because nothing ever worked the way you hoped it would do.  
Because nothing ever would be the way you hoped it would be.  
You just were that kind of a person: failing, trying again, failing once more and then just giving up. The used, wasted energy was gone and if you had the chance to get it back and store it somewhere and do something different: You'd do it.  
Because that's how pathetic your life was and it surely wasn't going to change with your lazy attitude.

Suddenly you felt ill.  
Placing the bread back in the plastic bag, you ignored Flowey's protests and hid your dinner under the mattress.  
“You know,” you started slowly, staring at some invisible point on the wall, “maybe I should look for a job? A little, low-paid part-time job. Something that might give us the chance to eat something decent once in a while.”  
To your surprise, Flowey gave you the most snarky laughter you'd ever gotten from it; the mocking grimace was plastered on its face as it answered: “You're not serious, are you? I can't imagine you finding a job. There's nothing you're good at, nothing in the slightest! Or do you mean you're going to sell your body? I don't think someone's going to be appealed by your 'charming' smell, human.”  
“I didn't mean that, you asshole!” Your shrieking voice probably reached outside the thin walls of the room, but that didn't stop you from being loud and offended. “I mean a real job! You can't tell me you're satisfied with how we're living right now, are you?”  
“Of course I'm not happy to stay in this rundown room. But I can't believe you'd decide to get a job... on your own.”  
“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”  
Yes, maybe you were a little lazy. Maybe you were giving up a little too fast when it came to your supplies. But that didn't mean you couldn't get hit by a special, magical force that might change you.  
Yes. Special, magical force being called 'standards'.  
“Look, I don't care what you're up to but don't expect me to move a single petal or root or vine to help you,” Flowey snarled and demonstratively moved its head away from you. Rolling your eyes, you flicked one of its yellow petals, ignored its outburst of anger and laid down to sleep.

 

There you were, standing in front of the small convenience store, dressed in the most clean clothes you could find. Which wasn't a lot, but you tried to cover all the dirty spots with other fabrics and it kind of worked so the next task ahead was getting inside, convincing the manager that you're born for this job of stacking products in shelves and hopefully that's your way out of poverty. Now square those shoulders, gurl.  
Try to look at least a tiny bit confident.  
You stepped through the slide door and the warmth of inside welcomed you with a pleasant breeze. Another advantage was that you could spent the majority of your day in a comfy, warm building. You just HAD to get that job.  
Coordinating through the aisles was easy as you looked for the office and luckily one of the employee was able to help you. The woman guided you to a large wooden door, eyeing you for a last time to take in your appearance. As you directed yourself at the office door, the woman went back to her work but you could swear you saw her shaking her head disapprovingly.  
Taking a deep breath, you finally entered the office and to your surprise the manager wasn't alone in the room. In front of the desk sat an orange cat-like monster in a reddish uniform. It turned its head to you, eyeing you suspiciously with his little, black dots. You stood awkwardly in the door, even though it was your first step inside the room you could feel a heavy, palpable tension in the air. The manager gave a low grunt, then faced the monster and scuffed: “Listen, I need employees who won't scare away my customers! And I don't like your attitude, pal. You should try to change your way of talking or you won't find anything. Also, your fur colour is distasteful, try to do something about that, too.”  
“S-sure, but it's not easy, you know? Colouring the whole fur? Not easy, not easy! Actually, I tried it once but it turned out green instead of brown and I'm not even sure what I did wrong. But it's possible! Someho-”  
“Okay, okay, I didn't want to hear your life story,” the manager rolled his eyes and crossed his broad arms over his chest. “Still, something about you doesn't seem right.”  
The manager, with his black moustache and the exaggerated styled hair shook his head and then, as if awakening from a dream, he suddenly noticed you standing in the room and he scrunched up his nose.  
“Okay, I'll consider your application. Have a nice day,” the manager ended their conversation and the cat-monster seemed reluctant to get up. But he forced a sour smile, as if he had eaten a lemon, and stood up to leave. Upon facing you, his gaze dropped to the ground and he passed you without saying a word. As soon as the door closed behind him, the manager let out a relieved sigh.  
“Finally, the freak is gone.” He made an impatient hand gesture in your direction and signalised you to sit down. Smiling, you sat down and opened your mouth to introduce yourself, but the man continued: “Why are they still here? I hoped the first second they crawled out of their black cavern that they'd get back but look, now we have to look where we stick those ugly creatures.” He groaned as if he was the most tragic person, snatched a piece of paper – probably the cat's application – off the table and threw it in the shredder right next to the table and finally his attention was on you.  
You probably wore the same bitter smile as the cat.  
“Now, how can I help you?”  
“I'm looking for a job,” you finally told, hoping that you didn't sound too eager and greedy. “I can work every time you want me to and I'm diligent and punctual. You won't be disappointed, really.”  
“And where's your application, miss?” His eyebrows rose. You swallowed.  
“Well,” your answer came very slowly, “I wasn't able to write one, because...”  
Because you couldn't even afford paper and a pen. Just tell him the truth.  
“I was so happy to read the sign that I came right away to show how enthusiastic I am about it!”  
Wow. You're an awful person, aren't you?  
The manager watched you with his narrowed eyes, grunted and leaned back at his chair.  
“Do you have any work experience?”  
“Yeah, of course I do.”  
Liar.  
“You're not just one of those vulgars who scavenge through the things outside the shop, are you?”  
“No! Why would you think that?!”  
The question surprised you, but the manager stared at you and suddenly he jumped from his seat and pointed a plump finger at you.  
“You are one of those hobos! I saw you sneaking around the building a few days ago! And you dare to come back and ask me for a job?! GET OUT OF HERE!”  
His loud voice scared you. His furious eyes seemed to through daggers at you and since you were frozen in that chair and didn't move at all, the man made it his own task to throw you out. He grabbed your arm so hard that it hurt and without a chance to protest or do something, he dragged you out of his office and threw you outside like you were some mangy dog.  
“Piss off, you scum! And I dare you to come back and show your ugly face again!”  
People were looking.  
Curious and disgusted glares were thrown at you.  
Your heart beat so fast that you worried it was going to explode any second. But you neither died nor disappeared. You were forced to witness the humiliation and repulsion and hate that came from all those people who were humans like you but they didn't treat you as a human. They treated you as if you were an animal. As if you didn't even deserve to be called a human just because you didn't own a nice car or fancy jewellery.  
It disgusted you. Humans disgusted you. Everything should just go to hell.

 

How were you supposed to face Flowey? Of course he'd rub your defeat right in your face. You couldn't go home. Not right now.  
You roamed through the streets even though it was already past 10 pm and this part of town was especially known for mugging and aggressive persons. But at this point you were beyond care. So what if someone attacked and tried to rob you? There was nothing that you could give them anyway. With your hands deeply hidden in your pockets, you walked down the dark street, staring at the ground. What other choice did you have but to return and face your loss and ponder about the 'what if'-scenario that always occupied your mind at times like these. It didn't do you any good, but you couldn't stop it.  
A few more hours . . . just a few more hours to cool your head and forget how pathetic you were.  
Then you heard something.  
It was energetic, but quiet music that was carried in your direction and you lifted your head to search for its source. You had almost stopped completely in your tracks.  
It was a freaking skeleton. He was very tall – the difference was probably about a whole head – and lanky, the sleeves of his red pullover dangled around his slim wrist bones and the yellow pants would had fallen down if it wasn't for the waist bag that kept it at its place. On his slim head (?) skull (?) sat a blue, warm hat and just the look of his bright, colourful outfit and how he bounced with every step to the loud music that was heard through his headphones provoked you and made you angry. He was a monster. Why did he seem so happy?  
But the other thing that awoke your interest was the neat mobile phone he carried in his hand and that had to be a newer model because the majority of so called 'cool kids' had those.  
He didn't really struck you as dangerous or powerful. Maybe he was one of those weak monsters. If that was the case . . .  
Your decision was made even before you'd worked out a real plan. You'd rob this guy. Take his money and phone, run somewhere safe, get yourself some snacks and then go back to your home where Flowey was waiting and tomorrow you'd sell this phone and hopefully receive a sweet sum.  
That's how desperate you'd become. But I know, you try to justify it because you're not the only one who'd do such drastic things; there were always bandits before you and there will always be some after you, but don't forget that this is your story and you're in the center and that's why no one cares about the other people. It is you whose actions will be judged.

Still, you were determined to follow your decision and refused to listen to that silly, small voice in the back of your head that tried to persuade you to leave that monster alone.


	4. Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you meet Papyrus' gang.... and Sans is giving you a hella time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY  
> HI SANS  
> HEY SANS  
> NOTICE ME SANS
> 
> This chapter and actually the whole story is inspired by this video:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZbWpJJAXego
> 
> angels do exist  
> 2 pure 4 this world  
> just...papy—

Look at you, sneaking up on an innocent citizen of your town, ready to beat him up just for his money and mobile phone. Your mother would be so ashamed of you.  
What, did I step on thin ice? Good. Because making you feel uncomfortable is sort of my job here.

But seriously, do you think that this is going to work? I don't want to spoil anything but I doubt that this is going to work out well. You're just a human and he is a monster. But hey, don't let me stop you. I know you're quite the stubborn type aren't you? Living by the motto: _If I cannot reach heaven, I will raise hell_ ; even if you don't really know what that means. Ha ha.  
Try to read a book once in a while, pumpkin.

  
But well, there you were, moving closer to that skeleton and because he didn't seem to have even one tiny worry in the world, it made you only angrier. Why was he so happy? He probably had everything you did not. A warm place to go, enough food (did skeletons eat?), a family, friends.  
But seriously, what were you going to do? You didn't even have a weapon to threaten him. Didn't stop you from trying it anyway.

With every step you took, you got closer and closer to him. The music he was hearing was some instrumental soundtrack that could belong to a movie or game. In a different situation it would had brought you into a better mood, but at this moment it just annoyed you and as soon as you noticed a dark alley you could drag him into, you gave the skeleton a strong shove and pushed him into the darkness. He gave a surprised yelp, whirling around to see what was happening and you quickly jumped at him, grabbed his collar and pushed him against the cold, hard wall. In that process, his headphones and hat slipped from its skull and landed clearly heard on the ground.

“If you scream for help, I am going to break your bones, you hear me?” you hissed at him, narrowing your eyes to look as dangerous as possible. The skeleton's black eye sockets were directed at you and even though there were no eyes or irises to show you that he really was looking at you, it was clear that his sight was on you.

“OH, HELLO THREATENING HUMAN!” he greeted you and his voice was so loud and energetic, that you jumped in surprise and confusion and quickly covered his teeth with your hand to keep him quiet.

“Hey, what did I just say? Shut up!”

The skeleton furrowed its non-existent brows (and it still looked as if he had them) and then tried to look around. Even though your hand was on his mouth, it didn't stop him from talking to you. He said: “ARE WE PLAYING THE SILENT GAME? I AM SORRY, HUMAN, BUT I AM NOT REALLY GOOD AT THIS GAME. I ALWAYS LOSE AGAINST THE TINY HUMAN!”  
“We're not playing a game,” you snarled. “I want you to give me all of your money and your phone if you don't want to get hurt.”

“OHH! IF YOU WANTED TO USE MY PHONE YOU COULD HAVE JUST SAID! MY BROTHER'S ALWAYS BORROWING IT! HERE, LET ME GET MY BONEYPRINTS OFF FIRST,” the skeleton-boy answered cheerily and he pulled a blue handkerchief with white bones on it out from his pockets to wipe the bright screen clean. His phone background showed a picture of a group wearing white laboratory coats. You could only get a brief look at it and the first person you noticed was some very tall, white-headed monster with a soft smile and black scars on its head. Someone was yellow, someone was blue and another monster was also white.

While you were too confused to speak – because THAT was clearly not the reaction you'd expected – the skeleton-boy continued to talk as if you were friends: “I ALWAYS GET ANGRY MESSAGES FROM PEOPLE SAYING I'VE CRANK-CALLED THEM AFTERWARDS.”  
This was not going as planned.  
“Oh, no. No, just—,” you started, but the skeleton continued as if he didn't hear you.  
“DON'T KNOW WHY.”

After he finished cleaning the screen – his grin never faltered because he was basically a skull and there were not many expressions he could do with his mouth (but that was oh so wrong and you were going to see that later) – he began to tap on it and said: “LET ME JUST GET THE KEYPAD UP FOR YOU.”  
You exploded.  
“Are you freaking' kidding me?! This is not how this works!”  
“I WOULD **NEVER** KID ABOUT AN IMPORTANT MISSION OF INTERSPECIES SHARING AND CARING!” Now Mr. Skeleton seemed worried; almost hurt as he placed his bony hand on his chest as if you'd offended him with your statement.

“HANG ON, I'LL CHANGE THE THEME TO SOMETHING OF AN APPROPRIATE LEVEL OF _COOL_ ” — why did he pronounce it like that — “FOR THIS LANDMARK DIPLOMATIC PHONE CALL.”

How was this even possible. Who the hell was this monster that he didn't even understand that you were robbing him! No one was that naïve, right? No one could be that innocent, right? As he kept talking you grew more impatient with every word and by that time it was enough to make you go insane. Which you did.

Since you pushed him against a wall beside a broken window, because that building behind him was an abandoned factory, you grabbed a piece of broken glass that laid spread around on the ground and charged for him, driving the big shard deep in the fabric of his red pullover. You didn't meet any obstacles like skin or flesh. In fact, you didn't meet anything. Didn't stop you from trying it anyway, so you continued to jab the shard into his abdomen, slicing the fabric until you were tired of trying. Mr. Skeleton didn't seem bothered at all. When you stopped, he raised the hem of his pullover to reveal... nothing under it. Because he is a _skeleton_ , genius. There's nothing there for you to hit.

Staring at his backbone, you felt your shoulders sink, the shard dropped from your bleeding fingers because you'd hold it too tight and it had cut in your own skin. Serves you right.  
It felt as if the ground beneath you was falling apart and you were plunged into a deep, black darkness with no escape.

“What am I doing,” you whispered, shocked that you had lost your temper and attacked him because he was in fact doing nothing. Just . . . being kind of naïve and . . . friendly. Very friendly. Suddenly he placed his cool, slime phalanges on your shoulders and gave you an encouraging squeeze.

“COME ON HUMAN, I KNOW YOU CAN DO IT! IF THERE'S ONE LESSON I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HAVE TAUGHT MYSELF, IT'S THAT ANY DREAM IS POSSIBLE IF YOU REALLY REALLY TRY, SO I **KNOW** YOU CAN ACHIEVE YOUR DREAM, EVEN IF YOUR DREAM IS TO STAB ME!”

 

Wow. What a motivational coach you'd stumbled into. But he didn't mean that, right? There was no way he'd actually say that without _meaning_ it, right?

You looked up at him, searching for some kind of mischief or malevolence in those black sockets but there was nothing of that kind. It seemed quite the opposite to be honest. Your answer came in soft, little sobs as you faced the ground, suddenly feeling so ashamed that you really wanted to disappear: “I-I don't . . . want to stab you, I just . . .”

“HERE!” Papyrus threw his arms in the air and gave you a confident smile, “I'LL KEEP STILL. HAVE AT IT, I'M ROOTING FOR YOU!”

This skeleton really worn you out. How could he be so positive and enthusiastic about something like that. You didn't want to hurt him. You didn't want to threaten him. You just wanted to have something that didn't even belong to you.

Right as you were to apologize and assure him, you were going to leave without doing him any harm, a soft, female voice startled the living crap out of you and you jumped in shock.

“Papyrus?” The voice was so familiar, it made your heart stop beating. You looked in the direction the voice had come from and your entire body froze in horror.

“You weren't there to pick Frisk up . . . we were worried . . .” the soft voice trailed off as the white, goat-like monster looked at you and the recognition was clearly seen in her eyes.

She hadn't changed at all. Though her wardrobe now consisted off warm clothes like the violet coat and the red scarf she was wearing, there was still something soft in her expression . . . until she noticed the holes in Papyrus' pullover, your bleeding hand and the red sharp on the ground.  
Behind her legs stood a little child – a boy if you saw correctly – in a blue outfit and a brown school back in his hands. Brown hair fell on his round face and his eyes were heavy almondy that it seemed like his dark eyes were closed. The thick, black eyelashes didn't help either. The boy looked worried, scared and gripped the woman's coat tightly.

Now the third of that trio . . . was another skeleton.

A small skeleton, maybe a head smaller than you, and he shook. Oh, he trembled so hard, that you could have sworn there was the faint noise of clattering bones. Between his shaking phalanges he held a very familiar, blue-yellow hat – the one Papyrus' had worn on his skull before you attacked him.  
And those eyes. Oh, those black, infinite black eye sockets that didn't seem to have an end somewhere at his occipital.  
They were directed at you.

Now, this maybe would had been funny because he wore some pink-yellow-flower pants, blue slippers with a laughing face on them, a white shirt with a skull printed on it and a blue hoodie that seemed to be a little too big for him.  
But the lethal aura that surrounded him. That dangerous, killing vibe that was directed right at you. It was palpable. The horror was palpable. Your _fear_ – just stretch your hand out and you can touch it.

“HELLO SANS!” Papyrus didn't seem to notice anything of the heavy, tense air around you. “HELLO LITTLE HUMAN AND LADY ASGORE!”

“Tori—“ the goat-lady tried to correct him, but Papyrus didn't let her finish as he grabbed your upper arms as if showing a great treasure he'd found.

“MEET MY NEW FRIEND!” His eye sockets flew up and down as he tried to come up with a name for you. “SHARDY!”

  
It was silent.  
Three monsters and a human were looking at you and the term 'uncomfortable' was an understatement of how you felt right now. Oh, you were in trouble. You were _fucked_. Because that little skeleton – Sans, Papyrus' brother? -, the goat-lady – Tori? - and even that little child - ??? - looked at you as if they were ready to skin you alive, then behead you, then throw you into a mincer and then find a way to resurrect you to do it again and again and again and again until there was nothing left of you expect for your broken soul that they'd crush eventually.

You felt **very** uncomfortable.

And Papyrus didn't really help when he pulled you closer to him, literally shoving his phone in your face.

“DO YOU STILL WANT TO USE MY PHONE?”  
A tiny whimper left your lips, hot tears stung in your eyes and you fumbled with your jacket as you tried to think of an answer. Goat-woman gasped.

“Oh, dear!” She rushed over to you, grabbed your wrist and removed it from your jacket. “Don't. You just smear it on your clothes.”  
You forgot you were bleeding. But why was she worried. Incoherent words left your lips as you started to cry. You shook your head, unable to look them in their eyes. Oh boy, you felt so ashamed. You felt like the scum of the earth. Even worse.

“OH NO! MY NEW FRIEND IS HURT! PLEASE LET US TAKE CARE OF HER, LADY ASGORE!”  
Oh my God, Papyrus was REALLY worried. He was GENUIENLY worried about you! After everything you'd done to him.  
“My child, do you have a place to go?” Lady Asgore (?) asked you and you quickly nodded. You wanted to leave. You wanted to forget those people. You wanted to drown yourself. Go ahead, I won't stop you.

“Are there any supplies at your place? Disinfectants and bandages? Are you safe there, my child?”

Your nod was a little too late. It was no surprise that Lady Asgore made a very stern expression and tugged at your wrist.

“Come, young one. Come with us.”

OH, the things they'd do to you! Shaking your head, trying to free yourself from her grip, you got a quick glance at Papyrus' face, worried and unhappy. A soft, little hand suddenly slid in yours and you looked down at the little child. Like the goat-lady's, his face was soft, his lips were curled into a soothing smile and his skin was warm, pleasant.

“Please come with us. We won't hurt you,” he assured you and you could had sworn that there was a comment? A harrumph? A snort? It came from the small skeleton. There were little white dots in his eye sockets when you snatched a glance at him. And they were staring at you; they were piercing right through you like sharp arrows.

“PLEASE HUMAN. THERE WILL BE PIE AND TEA AT LADY ASGORE'S PLACE!”

You opened your mouth to refuse.  
But nothing came out.

 

 

Her name was Toriel, not Lady Asgore. After the introduction they brought you to a pretty, little house in a calm neighbourhood. The moment you stepped inside, you knew you landed in a sanctuary. Everything was so welcoming and nice that your very first thought was: _I don't want to leave_.  
Toriel and Frisk took care of your wound, going so far as to try to convince you to get it stitched up, but you didn't have the courage and weren't sure if you could endure the pain so after they had disinfected the wound and put the bandage around your hand, everything was done and after that, they persuaded you to keep them a little company.

It was strange sitting on that round, big table, surrounded by monsters and a little boy who at that moment offered you a piece of delicious smelling pie.  
“Do you want some pie, Shardy?” Frisk questioned you and even though you told them your real name, they somehow stuck to that nickname.

“Please try the pie,” Toriel joined Frisk's attempt to make you feel less nervous. It _kinda_ worked.

“You know, I did not expect to see you again,” Toriel started, a sad smile on her face as she seemed to remember your first encounter. Your cheeks went hot with shame and your eyes shifted all around the room to avoid looking at her.

“OH, YOU KNOW EACH OTHER ALREADY?! THAT IS FANTASTIC!” Papyrus declared with raised hands, almost knocking the cup of tea over in his enthusiasm. You appreciated that he didn't want to know any further details of your meeting and from the corner of your eyes you could see how Sans, the little one, was holding the sleeve of his brother, as if it was his lifeline. You also noticed how he threw daggers at you with his eyes, clearly being unsatisfied that you were here at the moment.

You accepted the pie, carefully using the fork to take a little piece of the slice without crumbling over the tidy desk. It was so tasty. A little like heaven.

“If you don't mind me asking, what is your profession?” Toriel questioned carefully, never taking her eyes off you. The same couldn't be said about you, because suddenly the clock on the opposite wall was way more interesting.

“I uhm . . . I'm a student. At the college in this town.”

_Liar._

“I want to go to college, too!” Frisk happily bounced in his chair. “How is college?”  
“Well, it's definitely harder than elementary school,” you laughed nervously. Right. Because how are you supposed to know, cupcake, you never went to school.

“WOWIE, THAT MEANS MY NEW FRIEND IS REALLY REALLY SMART!” Papyrus was so happy about that, it legitimately made you sad and hate yourself even more. You were glad when Frisk started to talk about his school day and it was really pleasant to hear all those things. It remembered you of back then when you were given lessons with the other orphans and how you tried to prank the teacher. Those had been good times. You missed them.

But there was no turning-back and you knew that way too well. Looking down at your empty plate, you felt the gloom weighting down on you like a monstrous waterfall. Papyrus noticed your sudden bothered look and carefully leaned closer to you, ignoring how his brother pulled on his sleeve.

“ARE YOU ALRIGHT, SHARDY? YOU SEEM RATHER UPSET AND IF I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, CAN DO SOMETHING TO MAKE YOU HAPPY AGAIN, PLEASE SAY SO!” he said and was about to place another slice of pie on your plate, but you quickly lifted your hands in refusal and answered: “No, no, I'm alright. But I don't think I should bother you any longer. There's actually someone waiting for me, so . . . I should go home.”

'Home'. It certainly didn't feel like that and saying this word left a bitter taste in your mouth. But Flowey was there. You didn't want to leave him alone for too long. Or maybe it was more like you didn't want to be without him so you wouldn't feel lonely.  
It's always about you and how you feel, isn't it? What a great friend you are, champ.

“Oh, but you are certainly not a bother, dear,” Toriel quickly joined the conversation. “Please, you can visit us any time you want. I am sure, Papyrus will be happy to have you around.” She smiled at Papyrus, who obviously nodded in eager pleasure, then at you and you returned her smile as best as you could. You stood up to get your jacket that hung in the floor but suddenly there was a presence beside you and you looked to your left to find Sans standing right next to you, your thin jacket in his phalanges. You hadn't noticed him leaving at all, not even him standing so close to you.

“actually, i think someone should bring her home. one never can be sure of what's luring outside, right guys? those streets are dangerous at this time.”

It was the first time he spoke the entire evening you'd encountered him. His voice was a thick, deep sound that left a pleasant shiver on your skin. Those little eyes were directed at you and you found it quite fascinating how they were in his sockets, but didn't illuminate from within his skull, or else you would be able to see inside him. They were just . . . there.

“BUT THAT HUMAN IS MY FRIEND, SANS! DON'T STEAL MY FRIENDS AND FIND YOURSELF SOME, LAZYBONES!” Papyrus scolded his brother angrily, but Sans just shrugged his shoulders that were clearly seen through the white, thin T-Shirt he wore.

“come on, bro. we're like a big, happy family now. right?”

Sans looked at you. You swallowed a thick, dry lump in your throat. Unsure about what to say, you just took your jacket and got dressed.  
The parting was surprisingly comforting with Toriel, Frisk and Papyrus hugging you. The latter even insisted on meeting you this week to strengthen your freshly-made bond of friendship, promising to make you one of his infamous spaghetti. Since there was nothing for you to do anyway (+ free meal) you agreed.

You seriously gained a friend. Even though you had tried to rob him.  
What a turn of events.

But now it was time to go home and you joined Sans who'd been waiting outside already. He was really fast.  
You two walked in silence for a moment, before Sans finally spoke in his deep voice.  
“so college, huh? which subject?”

“Uhm.” What subjects could someone possibly study? “History and . . . British Literature.”  
You hoped it didn't sound like a question.

“huh. interesting. how old are you again?”  
“20,” you answered slowly and nervous. Your whole body was tense.

“so you've finished your bachelor? what's next? master?”

“Sure.”

Sans was quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was filled with sadistic amusement.

“funny. you must be one of those prodigies or else i'm not sure how you finished your bachelor in one year even though it takes three.”

The smirk in his voice was palpable. The soft, cool breeze felt like a slicing, cold knife on your skin.

“Yeah, you know I . . . finished school a year earlier. Got me straight into college,” you explained with a nervous laughter, hoping it'd convince him.  
It did not.

“you know, kiddo. you shouldn't lie to me. lying isn't nice.”

You shoot a quick glance at him. He still faced the street in front of you, paying no clear attention to you. Maybe you could break out for a run and somehow shake him off? But for some reason you continued to walk casually as if nothing had happened. Concentrating on keeping your breaths as calm as possible, you continued your play: “How would you know? Our school system is probably different from yours in Mt. Ebott.”

“you really want to keep that up, pal? i don't mind but i know some people who'd be really disappointed.”  
Did he mean Frisk and Papyrus? They seemed to be the most excited about it.

Unconsciously, you sped up your walking. The earlier you reached your apartment, the faster you'd be away from this strange, creepy monster.  
It didn't take long for you to reach the alley that led to your home and with a quick wave at Sans, you informed him that you were close enough to walk alone.

“T-Thanks . . . and bye,” you muttered, raising your shoulders to your ears in a protecting way. You didn't turn around to look if he was going back because you just wanted to reach the safety of your room. Unfortunately, you didn't manage to come far because suddenly the air around your body was prickling as if static energy had built up around you. Then you were lifted and smacked into the left wall as if you were a mere insect someone could pick up. You hit the wall so hard that it knocked all air out of your lungs. The pain was sharp and pounded in your whole back. You couldn't move. An invisible force pushed you against the hard, cold surface; your feet hovered helplessly a few centimetres above the dirty ground.

“listen, buddy.”

Sans' voice was low and cold and far away even though he stood right in front of you. Something was wrong. When he looked at you, there were no little flickers of light in those pitch-black sockets you'd found so interesting back at Toriel's house. They frightened you and in an attempt to free your body from that crushing pressure, you wiggled your feet and hands but to no avail. Sans snorted disgusted as if he was watching a cockroach move around in his kitchen.

“now, i don't wanna make a scene but . . . if i see you around my brother and i get the feeling you're gonna hurt him . . . **y o u ' r e   g o i n g   t o   h a v e   a   b a d   t i m e**.”

He looked straight at you, the sick, plastered grin on his face seemed to widen at its corners in what seemed to be a mocking, threatening gesture. But what frightened the living shit out of you was his left eye socket. Or rather the cyan eye that stared right in your soul.  
This wasn't a threat. It was a promise.

You couldn't breath.  
He was able to hurt you.  
He was able to _kill_ you, if he wanted.

You tried to nod to show him you clearly got the message but moving your head hurt so much you thought you'd die. Incomprehensible words left your lips and Sans gave a low, unamused chuckle.  
A blink of your eyes and everything was over. You fell on your knees – the impact shot a hot sting of pain through your body and you gasped for fresh oxygen. The pressure was gone.  
The magic was gone.  
Sans was gone.

  
Dragging your body to your room was so exhausting but you somehow did it and the moment your threw yourself through that door, you fled on your mattress, head hiding in that pile of dirty sheets. Somewhere behind you Flowey moved.  
“What the hell happened? You look like you got hit by a car,” were his words of greetings. You leaned up and looked at him.

And then you broke.

Violent sobs shook your whole body and the tears streaming down your dirty cheeks were hot and salty and it felt as if they burned your skin. You cried and cried and your upper body collapsed back on the mattress, right in front of Flowey who was in utter shock and confusion.

“W-what the heck? What's going on?”

You shook your head and cried harder, clutching its ugly, broken plant plot.  
“Hey, I can't help you, if you don't talk, you idiot!”  
Its annoyed, angry and yet somehow desperate voice reached you but it only fuelled your self-disgust.

Flowey couldn't help you.  
Not even you could help yourself.


	5. Abyssus Abyssum Invocat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which one hell summons another.  
> Clearly not your lucky day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU ARE ALL SO AWESOME.  
> I don't know why but threatening Sans is surprisingly real fun to write.
> 
> #imsorryreader  
> #yourgoodtimeswillcome  
> #plznoticemesans

It was past midnight when Sans finally returned to Toriel's. He was tired and very glad that he and Papyrus could stay at her place. He carried himself over to the couch and even though everything was dark, he found his way perfectly through all the furniture without bumping into something. He threw himself into the soft cushion, sighing exhausted while his hand searched blindly for the remote of the TV in front of him. Even though he shared a room with Papyrus' in the upper level of the house, he didn't feel like walking upstairs. He'd just sleep on the couch.  
As the soft light of the TV illuminated the room, he heard a door open quietly somewhere behind him in a corridor. Sans didn't need to know who it was. A few seconds later, Toriel joined him in the living room, wearing her night dress.

“Hello Sans. I see everything went well?” she wanted to know and Sans didn't even had a bad feeling as he lied: “yeah. brought that kiddo back. everything went fine and smooth, tori.”

She didn't need to know what he had done to that girl. No one had to know.

He still couldn't believe what had happened. Papyrus was attacked.  
His brother was attacked and he hadn't been there to protect him. Luckily it was just some stupid, little girl. Sans doubted she meant any danger to them but he definitely wasn't eager to find out how far he could push his luck.

Because if someone died, Frisk was going to Reset everything. They'd go back to the Underground. They'd go back to the beginning. And Sans didn't want to be surprised by a Genocide Run. He'd hoped that those days laid far behind him – he was naïve enough to believe that this time, everything was going to play out and Frisk wouldn't use his power ever again.  
But if someone would come and kill one of Frisk's friends, everything was going to be over.

Sans closed his eyes for a moment, knowing that Toriel was watching him.  
“You know,” her soft voice reached his ears but he didn't open his eyes. “I am worried about that child. I hope she is in a safe place now.”  
That reminded Sans of something. He tucked his hands in the pockets of his hoodie and leaned his head in Toriel's direction.  
“didn't you say you'd seen her already somewhere? when did that happen?” he wanted to know.  
“Well, six months ago, that human tried to take my purse,” she explained slowly as if she'd know that her answer would upset Sans. And she was damn right about that.

In the dark behind his closed eyes he saw the face of that girl and the anger in him grew like a tossing, big wave that was ready to crush everything. He should had threatened her a lot more. Maybe a bone in her leg would had been a good impression of how serious he was about every word he's said. If she would hurt Papyrus or anyone important to him, he'd kill her. And if by some chance Frisk would break the barrier again after his Reset, he'd find her and make sure she won't do it again.  
“why didn't you tell us?” Sans' smile was gone and replaced by a frown. “we all had noticed you were bothered because of something.”  
“She is just a child, Sans. What should I have done? Threaten her? I'm actually surprised that she is a student, but happy that it's not something worse I'd expected.”  
“ever thought about her lying to us, tori?” Sans mentioned, rolling his eyes because Toriel was such a good-hearted person that Sans was sure it would backfire on her someday.  
“I just hope that she won't think of hurting anyone again,” Toriel said and heaved a sigh before she left in the kitchen and Sans was glad she did because now she wasn't able to see his mischievous smile that spread on his face. He was going to make sure that human wouldn't even think about scratching a spider. Actually, he'd find it very amusing and entertaining to watch that stupid, human girl getting finished by Muffet.

Quietly laughing to himself, he suddenly smelt the comforting aroma of coffee. A minute later, Toriel came back into the living room, a cup of deliciously steaming coffee in one hand, in the other there was a glass filled with water. She gave Sans the cup, gave him a soft smile and wished him a good night.  
“night tori,” Sans grinned, satisfied and at peace with himself.

He'd move hell if he had to as long as he could keep his friends safe.

 

 

The next morning came fast and harsh, you awoke and felt like the scum of the earth. The skin around your eyes was swollen and hurt and you felt emotionally and physically drained as if everything inside you was twisted and torn and there was nothing that could patch you up. You got up, went over to the small bowl where you kept some water to wash your face.

You were still shaken from yesterday. There was nothing that could had prepared you for something like that.  
Being attacked by a monster.  
Experiencing what it meant to feel their magic rush through you.  
It was horrifying.

How could humans live with monsters? How could anyone possibly allow something like that.  
Your felt dizzy; you didn't want to leave your room today and wished you could just hide under your blanket. But today was not a day you could do that.

Because it was one of those rare days you had to meet your 'guardians'.  
You didn't want to meet them. They didn't care about you. You didn't care about them. It was just an agreement written on paper no one felt to satisfy. But once in a while you had to make an appointment with them.

“Why are you looking like you're going to puke. If you're going to puke, don't puke on me.”  
Flowey sat on a carton that was placed on a certain spot where the sunbeams shone on the ground through the dirty window. It had his eyes closed, seemingly very comfortable in the warm rays.

I mean, he is a flower. What would you expect?

“You know, I'm not really into meeting that family. They're so full of themselves, looking at them hurts.”  
“Well they have everything you don't. It's not a surprise you want to kill them.”  
“Oh my God, I don't want to kill them!”  
“You don't? Because I certainly would.”

You rolled your eyes.  
“You'd kill everyone if you could.”

Flowey shrugged, then opened his eyes to look at you. You knew what was coming.  
“You know,” it started suspiciously matter-of-factly, “you still haven't told me what happened to you yesterday. You know, the pathetic wheezing and ugly crying.”  
“You are as sensitive as a mail box. Maybe I don't want to talk about it?”  
You certainly did not.  
  


The remaining time flew by and when you left your apartment, you somehow managed to tame your hair into a ponytail to look a little tidier. You didn't want the Richards to feel ashamed of you because they shouldn't occupy themselves with you at all.  
The meeting point was the same as always: a little café in a small alley that was easily overlooked if you didn't know it existed. The closer you came to that place, the more unsettled you became. You didn't want to hear what good life they had and what great places they'd visited while you were stuck in that crappy room.  
Two hours. It would only last two hours and then you were free, cupcake. Don't worry, I'll keep you good company.

You reached the café and spotted the three family members, dressed as neat as always, wearing the most expensive clothes you'd ever seen.

A soft ting of the doorbell announced your arrival and immediately three heads were turned in your direction and superficial, plastic smiles greeted you.

“Finally! We were worried you wouldn't come, honey,” Maura Richards stood up and gave you a weak, reluctant hug. Her perfume made you choke but you forced a smile on your face. The other two members of the family also welcomed you with involuntary, rushed embraces and quickly sat back on their seats.

You sat across from the son, an egocentric, unfortunately really handsome boy your age. He was absorbed in his smartphone, not even leaving a glance at you but you were glad about that because under his gazes you always felt uneasy and nervous. He wasn't interested in you, you didn't belong in his chase. And still, whenever his eyes would travel over your body, you wished he'd stop it.

“Now, how have you been, hon? I'm sure there is a lot for you to tell us,” Maura demanded to know, as always when you met. You knew she wasn't genuinely interested in that, but for the sake of having something to report to the person in charge regarding your case, she tried to get as much information from you as possible.

Leaning back in the uncomfortable chair, your eyes trailed off to a waitress standing behind the counter. She'd definitely seen you walk inside but apparently it didn't struck her to get your order. Or maybe the Richards told her you wouldn't need anything because you wouldn't stay for long. Whatever.

“I'm looking for a job,” you answered as casual as possible, playing with the blue napkin to occupy yourself. “I can't stay in that room doing nothing. And yesterday I—“  
“Does that mean we aren't giving you enough? You should be more thankful,” Maura interrupted you, eyeing you suspiciously as she waited for your answer. Her husband, Frank, cleared his throat. A clear sign for you to not fuck it up right now.

“No,” you answered slowly. “But I don't want to be a burden to you?”  
Maura accepted that and continued: “Well, I think Ms. Sargent would be satisfied to hear that. It just means that we do our job.”

She gave you a self-satisfied chuckle, leaning over to her husband while placing a hand on her son's shoulder as if to prove something. For example that she was able to handle a family.  
Not like your parents who'd left you.

You took a deep breath, continuing to tell them everything you thought was important. The last thing you wanted to mention was your meeting with Papyrus.

“I met monsters yesterday. They were really friendly and I guess I'll stay in contact with them.”  
Maura froze, mouth wide agape. It was Frank's turn to talk: “Wait, you mean real monsters? Those things that climbed outside Mt. Ebott? What kind of business would you have with those creatures?”  
“I accidentally bumped into someone, a tall skeleton, and we kind of became friends?” you summarized the event, without stating the most important detail of you threatening him. That clearly wasn't something the Richards wanted to hear.

“Wow, you became friends with a freak? That's abnormal,” was the first snarky comment by Nathan, the son, who'd looked up from his phone.  
“There's nothing abnormal about that,” you justified angrily, feeling the urge to protect Papyrus. “And he's not a freak. Papyrus is really friendly and nice!”

“Papyrus?” Maura scrunched her nose. “Like the font?”  
You shrugged since there was nothing strange about being named after a font. Some people would call their parents after celebrities and no one cared. Suddenly, you doubted it had been a good idea to tell them.

 

You stayed for another hour, it was your turn to listen to them since they clearly lived such a glorious life they wanted to share it with you.

Maura got herself a new studio. She didn't like the colour of her last one.  
Frank bought a new car in a fancy silver. The previous was too small.  
And Nathan demanded that they'd go to the Caribbean this year because they'd already been in Majorca and it'd be totally uncool to tell his friends he didn't had visited another awesome place.  
It was fascinating to compare their problems to yours. You couldn't even afford new clothes and dreaming of visiting other, prettier places didn't occur to you at all.

When it was time to leave, the Richards paid for their coffees. You noticed how Frank handed money over to his son, avoiding your gaze.

“Okay, it was good seeing you, but we'll have a family dinner this evening and I still need a new dress. Frank promised he'd buy me one,” Maura laughed and waved at you, sending the shiny bangles on her wrist flying against her arm. “Nathan will give you your money, don't worry. See you next time, hon.”  
Frank gave you a plain nod and with that they left. It was you and Nathan, who'd put away his mobile phone. He leaned closer to you, giving you a charming smile that made you nervous.

“Let's go outside. I don't want people to see me handing you a stack of bills. It'd seem weird, wouldn't it?”

You nodded.  
That was the deal.  
The Richards 'took care' of you by doing absolutely nothing. You'd tell them about your condition, they'd give you some money in return and bring you stories to your person in charge, a chubby, strict woman named Jennifer Sargent, who'd be satisfied and leave records about the Richards being so great and fantastic and wonderful.

It was a load of bullshit.  
But you had your money and they kept their reputation.

You followed Nathan outside, turning at the corner in an abandoned alley. It was always like that when you received the money because neither you nor one of the Richards could deny that it felt utterly disgusting to do so. But you never mentioned that.

Nathan entered the alleyway as if he owned the place: smug, satisfied, superior. He'd styled his black hair today in this one particular way that already showed how much of a douchebag he was. His clothes, his appearance – everything made you want to throw up.

“Now, sweetie. I'd love to give you the money right away but there's actually a favour I need you to do for me,” he started and by the way he was looking at you, all of you inner warning bells rang. You'd known him for half of your lifetime now; remembered clearly how he'd chucked stones after you when you first met him at the age of ten, how he spilled food on you when you were twelve and how he said he'd rather wanted you dead than being part of his family the day you turned fifteen.

Sometimes you wondered who were the actual monsters.

Your throat was dry when you urged him to continue: “What do you want?”  
“You see,” Nathan's voice was sugar-sweet and it made you sick. “When I look at you, I see what a fine woman you've become. You know, a woman like you, has one particular job to do.”

He strolled over to you, carrying his body in a slack movement as if it took way too much energy to do so. He placed a arm around you, pulling you closer to him.

“I mean entertaining men like me. You know. Put this body of yours to good use, warming a poor soul like me. The days get colder and colder. This would benefit us both,” Nathan purred in your ear, trailing his arm from your shoulders to your waist where he pressed his fingers in your side.

You gasped, jumping away from him to find your back meeting a nearby wall.  
This wasn't happening for real, was it?

“What the hell are you talking about? I'm not a slut!”  
“'Slut' is such an unpleasant term,” he chuckled, coming closer to you. “Let's just call it 'friends with benefits'.”  
“But we're not friends, Nathan. You detest me, remember?”  
“I did, but I recognize a pretty face when I see it,” he winked at you and retrieved the money from his pocket. He started to fan it right in front of you, taunting you as he waited for you to grab it.

His smile made you shrink. His words made your head spin.

“Look, I'm not interested. Find someone else, I'm sure there are plenty of people who'd be happy to help you out,” you declined even angrier, shoving the money back against his chest. You wanted to leave, but Nathan didn't let you. This time, he grabbed your wrist and drew his face close to yours. You could see the little, brown sprinkles around his black pupil. He smelled like vanilla.

“Hate to break the news to you, but remember that this money here is what my parents always give you. You see, you're not really in the position to refuse my nice offer,” he whispered in your ear and leaned closer to you. His lips brushed your cheeks and it sent your heartbeat raising.

He didn't really mean to blackmail you with your own money.

This was prostitution. Prostitution for your _own fucking money_.

You were actually speechless. Of course you didn't want do it.

But let me tell you, pumpkin, you didn't have any other chance. Because without those thin, green papers, I can't guarantee that your condition will become any better. Just take the money, spread your legs and it will quickly be over, I promise.

You opened your mouth, not sure if you wanted to scream for help or whisper an agreement. But you didn't get the chance to say anything.

“welp. look who's here.”  
You'd recognize this voice everywhere, even if you were stuck in a big crowd, surrounded by dozens other voices. But _this_ voice had left an impression on you like the inscription on a tombstone – it was engraved on your soul.

Nathan also was surprised by the sudden interruption and jumped away from you. Staring at the shorter skeleton, he gawked at him, then at you and in a rushed attempt to get away, he flung the stack of money at you, mumbling something like: “I don't know her, she threw herself at me” and with that, he was gone.

Now if that wasn't awkward. The money was on the ground, spread like green leaves on an early autumn day. Sans stood across from you, his hands hidden in his pockets as he watched you with his smug grin. Oh, that didn't mean anything good.

Slowly you bend down to pick up the money even though you knew exactly how that must had looked to him.

But you refused to let it bother you, because you knew the truth. You knew that Nathan Richards was a little grease-ball, a disgusting guy who'd do everything to get some physical attention of women because no one would really want to go out with him due to how much his personality sucked.

Ignoring how Sans just . . . stood there and watched you, you counted the bills, checking that the Richards had given you the correct sum. To your disappointment something missed. Maybe Nathan had kept some in his pockets. But you certainly didn't want to see him again after this and proceeded to get up, when a pair of patellas stood in your vision, barely seen under the black shorts Sans was wearing. You looked up and met Sans' smirk. It sent shivers down your spine.

“wow, you didn't struck me to be _that_ kind of a person, kid,” Sans said, but he didn't really sounded shocked or surprised rather . . . pleased? Like he was actually happy about what he assumed to have discovered. He waved some bills at you – the missing in your sum and reflexively you tried to snatch at them. But Sans was faster. When did he even pick it up?

“come on, that's not how you thank a friend, right?” he chuckled and quickly pulled his arm back so you couldn't even touch it. Your response was quick without you thinking about it: “I don't think we're friends.”

“oh. ouch, kiddo. i don't even know what could make you say that with such a cold voice,” he continued, an eye closed as he put his free hand on his chest where his heart would be. Nothing in his voice, in the amused flicker of light in his eye socket or in his shit-eating grin showed that he was genuinely offended by your words.

“Yeah, wonder why,” you trailed off, easily visualizing the events from yesterday right in front of your eyes like a nightmare that kept visiting you every night. “What are you doing here anyway?”

You couldn't believe that it was a mere coincidence that Sans appeared in that exact moment you had a dilemma. As if he was able to read your mind, his smirk grew wider and you could have sworn the flickers of light in his skull dimmed.

“just taking a break from work but that's none of your business, kid. well, whatever. there's actually something i need to tell ya. and you should listen to me 'cuz i don't like repeating myself.”

You stared at him, speechless and shivering.  
He stared back at you, towering and grinning.

You felt like you were gazing into the abyss.

 

And when you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you.


	6. Dating START!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which unbeknowst to you, you date a skeleton.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU ARE ALL WONDERFUL CREATURES OK?!  
> Thank you so much for your support!! I love you guys! Q_Q  
> And I don't like this chapter very much but well... here it is. Plz don't hurt me.
> 
> note: yeah, the thing sans's doing at the end...that happend to me today.  
> and it was like the cutest shit.

No one of you moved. The world beyond you continued in its actions and flow, but here right in front of Sans it felt like time had stopped. You were still holding his eye contact, remembering last evening when the left eye socket had shimmered in a hostile cyan. Goosebumps trailed over your skin like the soft touch of death himself, leaving you cold and helpless.  
Sans either didn't notice it or he just ignored it.

“remember when my brother invited you to hang out with him? don't go. _tibia_ honest, i don't want you around him.”  
He got straight to the point. You'd already noticed that he was very protective over his brother, but that he'd look for you just to show it a second time kind of surprised you. You'd almost forgotten your meeting with Papyrus, it was tomorrow at the same place you'd encountered him.

“Maybe you should let Papyrus decide about that,” you answered slowly and quietly, unsure if you should raise your voice against him. Sans shrugged, closed his eyes and in a split section he was gone . . . and stood right behind you.

Sans bend down, because you were still on your knees, to put the money in his hand in your pocket. When he rose, he placed a cool, bony hand on your head as if to pat you.

“trust me, kid. you don't wanna see how good i am at my job. 'cuz i like doing absolutely nothing.”

You whirled around, unsure what to say but it didn't matter anyway.  
He was gone.  
But the message was clear: He was able to touch you without even moving as much as his pinky finger. Your vulnerability was the same as a new born kitten's.

 

Returning home had never felt so unsatisfying and gloomy as today. So Sans was threatening you. He clearly loathed the thought of you and his brother being friends and you didn't want to see the precautions he'd take to keep it that way.  
Flowey saw your worried expression and with a heavy sigh, as if it carried the world's greatest burden on its ~~shoulders~~ petals, it turned towards you and smacked your leg with its green leaf.

“Stop looking like a kicked puppy. It's annoying and I'm ashamed to be an acquaintance of yours,” it said, tossing its head left and right in a way to what? Comfort you? Mock you? With your feet you shoved its pot away, ignoring its complaints.  
“You don't even know why I'm like that.”  
“Yeah, because you don't talk to me, stupid!”

Flowey: 1  
You: 0

You flipped on your stomach, facing the dirty wall and heard how Flowey pushed itself back to your side. It definitely needed a new flower pot. Maybe you'd buy it one with the money you'd received.

“Okay, listen. I meet some folks yesterday . . . monsters to be more precise. I may or may not have attacked one of them to get his money and phone and . . . I was seen by his friends. The reason I came back so late was because I was at that woman's place and they treated me very . . . friendly. But now one of those people threatened me even though I wanted to be friends with them . . . with one in particular. And we were going to meet tomorrow but I'm not sure anymore. I don't think I should go. I'm afraid of that guy.”  
Your voice became quieter and smaller with every word. You couldn't see Flowey's reaction but it didn't feel as if it was happy about your story.

“I didn't expect you to hurt someone,” it started thoughtfully, lost in some distant world or time you couldn't grasp and didn't belong to. “But you shouldn't listen to that sucker. Go and meet this guy. If you want to be friends with him, just go for it.”

You struggled to get up, sitting cross-legged as you faced Flowey. It looked rather annoyed, but also kind of tired as if it was done fighting a long, heavy battle.

“Did you just really said 'Go and make friends'? _You_? Who are you? Where is my cynical, grumpy flower?” you couldn't help but laugh, feeling some sort of hope and little determination. Flowey snorted, rolling its eyes as it avoided your gaze.

“Shut up. Maybe I want you out of the house to set traps everywhere so you come back and get killed.”  
“No, seriously. I've never heard you saying such . . . nice words,” you continued, now a little more serious. Flowey lowered its head, watching you behind half-closed eyes when it said: “I may or may not have known someone . . . who wanted to be friends with everyone and everything he met. It was annoying, but . . . not bad. You kind of reminded me of him and the thing I've learned is that if you want to make someone your friend, you just do it. You don't ask for permission, you don't let yourself be bullied by others. You just go and . . . make friends!”

Wow.

Look at this little optimist. You didn't want so say it out-loud but Flowey looked so precious and adorable, you wanted to hug it. The way it looked at you with those shiny, black eyes that reflected a memory like a flicking candle. It was right. Who was Sans to command you around.  
He'd threatened you and told you to stay away from his brother.

But you refused to listen to him.

“You know what, you're right!” you placed your hands around Flowey's pot, giving it a huge grin. “I'll go! I'd never thought I'd say this, but thank you, champ! You're the best!”

And you hugged Flowey.  
And it didn't like it.  
But it sort of just accepted it anyway.  
And you felt your bond growing stronger.

Sans watched his brother pace up and down the street like a furious cat searching for food or something to play with. The tall skeleton wore his _cool dude_ shirt, an “APPROPRIATE OUTFIT TO FIT THE IMPORTANT DATE WITH THE CUTE HUMAN” as he'd told Sans in front of their big mirror, and looked rather bothered as he passed Sans a dozenth time, who sat on a bin with his feet dangling above the ground, a smile on his face.

“I DON'T UNDERSTAND. WE AGREED ON MEETING TODAY! RIGHT HERE! WHY WON'T SHE COME?” Papyrus crossed his bony arms over his chest, knitting his eyebrows as he looked down the street in search for that girl. Sans shrugged innocently and leaned back, shifting his weight on his hands as he watched his brother pass him again.

“maybe she's busy. you know, working herself _to the bone_ ,” Sans answered, laughing quietly to himself when Papyrus shot him a warning glare.

“I'M SERIOUS, SANS. I AM WORRIED ABOUT HER!” Papyrus continued, sighing heavenly as he finally came to a halt in front of his brother who in return closed his eyes and titled his head back as if he was sun-bathing though there were big clouds covering the blue sky.

“na, don't worry, bro. she's probably too excited. doesn't have a _shin_ gle chill,” Sans continued. “we should go home tho. i'm sure one of mettaton's show is running on tv right now.”  
“NO SANS! WHAT IF SHE COMES AND I'M NOT HERE! SHE'LL THINK I DID NOT KEEP MY PROMISE! AND YOU KNOW I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, ALWAYS KEEP MY PROMISES!”  
“of course, paps. it's just a feeling in my bones but i don't think she'll come.”  
“SANS, PLEASE TELL ME YOU DID NOT SCARE HER AWAY WITH YOUR TERRIBLE JOKES!”  
“ok. didn't scare her away with my jokes.”

Papyrus looked at Sans trough narrowed eyes, trying to analyse if he was telling the truth.  
Sans couldn't just waste this chance.  
“what's wrong, bro? you trying to _see right through me_?”  
“OH MY GOD, STOP IT SANS!” Papyrus threw his arms in the air. “THAT'S WHY YOU DON'T FIND ANY HUMAN FRIENDS! AND EVEN THOUGH I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HAVE A LOT OF THEM, I CAN'T ALWAYS SHARE WITH YOU!”

Sans laughed again, clutching his non-existent stomach. He'd stay like this forever. Telling jokes, watching Papyrus react to them. This was what drove him further, what kept him going in times of distress and sorrow: he'd spent every minute with his brother and hold it in his heart. In hard times those memories gave him strength. Knowing that sometime he'd be reunited with him again was enough to make him endure everything.

“well, don't think we should stay longer, bro. let's go home,” Sans jumped off the bin, landed fleet-footedly on the ground and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. Of course it sucked to see his brother down and disappointed but he'd rather had his brother sad than dead. Rhyming not intended.

“cheer up, bro. you can make me some of your great spaghetti. how does that sound?” Sans offered, glad that this educed a little smile from his brother.  
“I WISHED I COULD SHOW THAT HUMAN MY SUPERB COOKING SKILLS. I'M SURE SHE'D WANT TO INTENSIFY OUR RELATIONSHIP EVEN MORE!”

Sans patted his brother's arm, ready to head back to their place but his brother didn't move. He turned around to see what was going on.  
And then he saw her.  
And his grin froze, like he was a pumpkin and someone had carved a sour smile on his face.

  
“Papyrus!!” you waved at him excitedly. The last meters were passed with you running to his over-joyed figure who welcomed you with a huge, bone-crushing hug. “I'm sorry,” you grasped for air. “Had something to do. But I'm here.”

“OH, I AM SO HAPPY TO SEE YOU, HUMAN! SANS DOUBTED YOU'D COME BUT I BELIEVED IN YOU, HUMAN!” Papyrus greeted you, his smile covered his whole face and the genuine happiness was clearly shown in his eyes. You ignored the last comment and said: “Yeah, I came! H-How could I not? Missing to hang out with such a cool guy like you?”  
“WOWIE! THANK YOU SO MUCH, SHARDY! DID YOU HEAR THAT SANS?! SHE'S ALREADY NOTICED HOW MUCH OF A COOL GUY I AM! I MEAN, THAT'S NOT A SURPRISE, BUT STILL!”  
Papyrus put you down and turned around to look at his brother, but oh, what a surprise. He wasn't there anymore.

“HM, OF COURSE HE JUST LEFT, THAT BONEHEAD. WELL! THAT MEANS I HAVE MORE TIME TO SPEND WITH YOU! WHERE DO YOU WANT TO GO, HUMAN?”

You'd already asked yourself that question and somehow shyly admitted that it was really time to give Flowey a little gift.

“I have a friend who helped me out and I really want to give him a little present. Do you know where I can buy a pretty flower pot?”  
“A FLOWER POT? WELL WHY NOT TRY LOOKING IN A GARDEN CENTER FOR A START? OUR KING, ASGORE, ALWAYS BUYS HIS GARDEN TOOLS IN THERE,” Papyurs answered with his cheerful voice as you strode side by side downtown.  
“You mean, like, the KING of the monsters? You know him?”

That surprised you. You'd heard of him, supposedly he was a very big, but kind-hearted monster who put everything into the rights of monsters. Papyrus knowing him implied that the skeleton might had also played a bigger role in freeing the humans from the Underground.

“YES, KING ASGORE IS A VERY FRIENDLY, SOFT MONSTER! LADY ASGORE, UHM . . . TORIEL IS ACTUALLY HIS EX-WIFE! THAT WAS SUCH A SURPRISE!”  
“Woah,” was your very intelligent answer. “That sounds impressing. So, uhm. Frisk is living with Toriel, isn't he?”

You weren't sure if you were allowed to ask questions about Frisk, Toriel and the skeleton-brothers. But you wanted to hear more of them. You wanted to be part of their story.

“YES, THE TINY HUMAN LIVES WITH HER. IT WAS FRISK, TRUTH BE TOLD, WHO FREED US FROM THE UNDERGROUND!” Papyrus explained and you nearly stumbled over your own feet.

“Frisk is the child who'd freed you?! But Frisk is only . . . a child!”  
This was some big news. You couldn't even handle your own situation but imagining being trapped in a mountain with monsters, alone and unsure what to do and what consequences would be brought with wrong actions.  
It terrified you.

“WELL, THE TINY HUMAN IS . . . TINY!” Papyrus agreed but when he spoke, there was so much pride in his voice that it comforted you in a way. “BUT HE IS REALLY BRAVE AND STRONG! HE HAS A FIERCE DETERMINATION AND HE IS VERY GOOD AT MAKING FRIENDS! I MEAN, HE SO DESPERATLEY TRIED TO BECOME FRIENDS WITH ME, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, THAT HE LET HIMSELF BE CAPTURED BY ME THREE TIMES! ISN'T THAT ADORABLE?!”  
“You tried to capture him?” Now you wanted to hear everything. Frisk's adventure could be straight from Alice in Wonderland. You loved that story when you were a child. How often you'd laid in your bed, staring up at the black ceiling as the other children in the row of beds slept. But you were awake. Awake and imagining, dreaming how it would be if you were Alice, falling down the rabbit whole, facing your own adventure.  
Unfortunately, it never happened.  
You're still stuck here.

And so Papyrus told you everything. How Frisk one day showed up in the town where he and his brother were living, Snowdin. How Frisk solved all of Papyrus' puzzles, befriended him and even dated him! But alas, Papyrus didn't return Frisk's feelings and so the boy had to continue his journey. He managed to make friends with Undyne (who was that), faced Mettaton (what) and even stood against the King himself.  
After everything you'd heard you just wondered how Frisk was even alive at this point. Because you were sure you'd have died already.

“BUT THE CLIMAX OF THIS WAS WHEN THIS MEAN FLOWER CAPTURED US! AND FRISK HAD TO FIGHT HIM! BUT OF COURSE HE WON, AND THEN HE BROKE THE BARRIER AND NOW WE ARE HERE AND IT'S REALLY WONDERFUL UP HERE, SHARDY!” Papyrus ended his story with an energetic fist bumped in the air, showing a thumbs-up.  
“A flower?” You thought of Flowey. But he couldn't mean _Flowey_ , right? He couldn't possibly mean your little flower, because if Frisk did defeat this monster that'd attacked them, it wouldn't make any sense for Flowey to be up here.

But listening to Papyrus was so refreshing. It made you forget your worries, it made you forget what'd happened yesterday and hanging out with a friend was just so . . . nice.

  
In the end you'd decided to buy a plain, orange pot because it suited the colour of Flowey's petals, even though Papyrus hoped you'd buy the fancy green-blue-yellow striped one. You'd stayed longer, visited some shops and ate at _Burger Palace_ , where an emotionally wrecked cat-like monster you recognized to be the guy who tried to get that job at the local convenience store (Papyrus sort of knew him and called him Burgerpants) served you some really delicious burgers. You'd made sure to bring one for Flowey, too. As dirty as it felt to receive money from the Richards, it was nice to be able to afford a little bit more than usually.

You sat on a bench near a park, watching some kids playing around in the orange coloured leaf piles as they dove into the mounds and threw armful of leaves around to shower themselves. It made you remember when you played with the other children in the backyard of the orphanage, running around, climbing trees and throwing yourself in the dirt, just to feel alive. Something inside you left the huge urge to follow those kids and play with them.  
Papyrus beside you munched his Burger, staring at the ground.

“Papyrus, what job does your brother have?” you asked out of nowhere, suddenly remembering what Sans had said yesterday. Unsure what had triggered this memory, you quickly added: “And do you have a job, too? What about Toriel?”  
“WELL. LADY ASGORE IS A TEACHER! SHE TEACHES AT A SCHOOL FOR MONSTERS TO SHOW THEM HUMAN'S TRADITIONS! AND MY BROTHER HAS A LOT OF JOBS! BUT HE DOESN'T REALLY WORK BECAUSE HE IS SUCH A LAZYBONES!” Papyrus exclaimed somehow irritated, but sighed heavily and lowered his hands, where the rest of his burger remained, on his lap. He seemed bothered by something, his black eye sockets looked sad.

“TRUTH BE TOLD, HUMAN, I'M NOT SURE MYSELF WHAT EXACTLY HE DOES, BECAUSE SOMETIMES HE'D BE AWAY FOR DAYS. HE WON'T TELL ME ANYTHING, MAKE A JOKE AND PRETEND LIKE I DIDN'T ASK HIM. I KNOW MY BROTHER CAN TAKE CARE OF HIMSELF, BUT I'M STILL WORRIED SOMETIMES.”

Oh, he was able to take care of himself, you were pretty sure about that. But with Papyrus worrying about him, it made you wonder what Sans really did. Working? Stalking other people he feared would try to attack his brother? You turned around, looking for a skeleton hiding behind a tree. There was nothing.

“I'm sure he has his reasons,” you assured him slowly, unsure of what else to say. “But I still can't believe I'm sitting here, talking to a . . . skeleton.”  
“BUT WHY? I THOUGHT HUMANS WERE USED TO SEE SKELETONS, SINCE YOU DESCENDED FROM THEM!”

You stared at him. Reading your expression, he continued quickly: “I FOUND ONE OF THOSE FLAGS WHERE YOU PUT A SKULL ON!! THE ONLY EXPLANATION FOR THAT IS THAT SKELETONS ARE HUMAN'S ANCESTORS, RIGHT?!”

He looked so expectedly at you. You were certainly not the one to tell him the truth. Instead, you grinned and nodded.

“You're a good observer, Papyrus. What did you do with that flag?”  
“WELL I HUNG IT UP IN MY ROOM, OF COURSE! IT'S RIGHT NEXT TO MY TABLE WITH COOL FIGURES I HAVE RECEIVED FROM SANTA!”  
“You had Christmas in the Underground?!” you exclaimed surprised and Papyrus nodded happily.  
“OF COURSE! THERE WAS A CHRISTMAS TREE IN SNOWDIN WHERE WE WOULD LEAVE PRESENTS FOR GRYFTOT!”

What was a Gryftot? You didn't even ask.  
You stayed for another couple of hours, talking about random things, though you always tried to sidetrack when Papyrus asked questions about you. You were not ready yet to tell him more. You weren't even sure if you wanted him to know how your actual life condition was. It would make him dislike you, wouldn't it?  
It left a heavy pressure on your shoulders as you walked back and listened to Papyrus' happy chat.

“WE WILL MEET AGAIN, RIGHT HUMAN?! I STILL NEED TO MAKE YOU THE GREATEST SPAGHETTI YOU'VE EVER HAD!” Papyrus said, grinning widely as he awaited your answer. Could you say no to such a sweet, caring guy?

“I'd love to try it. But do you really think it'd be a good idea to come over to your place? I don't really think that Sans would like that to happen.”  
“OH, DON'T WORRY! I'M SURE SANS LIKES YOU!! HE'S JUST SHY SOMETIMES!”

You wouldn't describe that as 'shy'.  
“BUT!” Papyrus continued without noticing (or maybe just ignoring) your cynical expression, “I AM SURE WE COULD DO IT AT LADY ASGORE'S PLACE! BECAUSE I KNOW HOW MUCH THE TINY HUMAN LOVES MY SPAGHETTI!! I VISIT THEM A LOT! HOW ABOUT THAT?”

Well, that definitely sounded better than facing Sans in his home, knowing he could sort of kill you and hide your body in there and no one would ever find it out. Yeah, you declined that offer for now.

“I'd love to see Toriel and Frisk again,” you admitted, smiling to yourself. “If that's okay with them.”  
“OH, I'M SURE THEY'LL BE HAPPY TO SEE YOU TOO!!! WHY DON'T WE MEET TOMORROW AND GO OVER TO HER? I MAKE SURE TO TELL HER AND BRING EVERYTHING WE NEED! IT WILL BE THE BEST DINNER OF YOUR LIFE! PLEASE GIVE ME YOUR PHONE NUMBER SO I CAN CALL YOU IF SOMETHING HAPPENS!”

You bit your lip, staring at his shoes.  
"I don't have a phone," you confessed quietly and twittled your thumbs to occupy your hands. Papyrus' mouth left a shocked gasp.  
"OH, I DIDN'T KNOW THAT! BUT HOW AM I ABLE TO CONTACT YOU AND CALL YOU AND TEXT YOU?! I WILL SEE IF I CAN ASK A FRIEND OF MINE, ALPHYS, IF SHE CAN BUILD YOU A MOBILE PHONE!"  
"W-wait, you don't have to—"  
"BUT WE ARE FRIENDS!! FRIENDS HELP EACH OTHER, RIGHT?!" Papyrus beamed with excitement and there was no chance for you to decline.

He hugged you as you exchanged your goodbyes and you happily returned it. Even though he was just bones, it sort of felt comfortable; his arms around you made you feel save and strangely kind of . . . wanted? Like he was honestly happy with being around you even though there was no benefit for him.

You waved at him and made your way back home. You were really excited to see Flowey's reaction when you'd tell him about the great hang-out and the little presents you brought him.

 

Twenty minutes later you faced the alleyway to your apartment. But something felt odd. A creepy sensation lingered at the back of your neck, as if someone was watching you. You gulped and turned around, but there was nobody. How strange.  
But when you faced the alley again, you saw _him_.

At this point, it would had been strange for Sans not to appear. Somehow, you just expected him to be there, waiting for you in the shadows. Now you wished Papyrus was here. Sans wouldn't do anything to you as long as his brother was around, right?

The lights in his eye sockets followed you as you approached the alley, unconsciously tightening the grip around the bag where the pot and burger were in. He didn't move. He just stood there, like an unmoving shadow, waiting for you to come closer.  
And since you didn't have any other choice, you did.

Every step felt heavy, every breath drew sharper in your lungs. But you stood your ground, kept your shoulders straight and your gaze fixed on his.

You passed him.  
Nothing flung at you, you weren't magically knocked off your feet, there was no bullet in your head. But you felt his suffocating presence behind you.

“human,” he murmured, making you stop. “don't you know how to greet a pal?”

You turned around, lowering your head a tiny bit to look him right in his half-lidded eyes. His ever-lasting grin made you shiver but you resisted the urge to take a step back and wrap your arms around your body.

“Good . . . evening?” you whispered slowly, actually seeing how the breath escaped your lips like pulsating smoke. The tension was palpable. What would he do to you this time? Smack your head against the wall? Beat you up with the flower pot? Break every bone in your body and sell your organs?

“hey. how was the date with my bro? what did ya buy?” Sans continued casually and suddenly, just like that, the heavy tension was gone and breathing became so much easier.  
What was going on?  
He didn't come here to chit-chat with you, right? There was a purpose behind his stalking, right?! He made you feel so uneasy, you just wanted to lay on the ground, shrink into an embryo position and wait until he left. Or maybe, if you'd close your eyes and wish for it from the bottom of your heart, he'd just disappear?

It'd be worth a try.

“don't leave me here talking to myself, kid. come on, throw me a bone,” he continued, winking at you and you almost lost your shit because your relationship-level was DEFINITELY not that high.

You took a step back, confused and wary.

“First of: That was not a date. Papyrus and I met as friends. And secondly, what happened to your 'don't meet my brother or I'll stab you'-attitude. Don't just act like nothing of that happened!”

Sans smiled at you. And then he lifted his shoulders, the warm fur on his hoodie brushed his cheekbones and his confident expression changed into an embarrased one. Was he fucking timid? Shy, nervous about something? He didn't even look in your eyes; shifted those little lights around on everything but you. Did he try to hide in his hood? It would had been somehow cute, if it wasn't for your boiling anger that shot like a hot bullet through you.

“listen kid,” Sans started, something in his voice vibrated and shook like a tensed string. “today, my brother had a really great time. i gotta admit i wasn't expecting this to happen. i-”  
“You thought I'd hurt him again?”  
It was written all over his face. Guilt, shame. You'd hit the jackpot. At least he didn't try to deny it. Still, what an asshole.

You scoffed, turned around and walked away. Who was Sans to judge you. You were tired of his shit, threatening you and now coming back to what? Apologise? You didn't need that. You didn't need him.  
Unfortunately you didn't manage to come very far, because something swept your feet off the ground and you found yourself floating. Oh, this felt familiar.  
But at the same time it didn't? Because you recognized this blue glimmer, the static energy that closed itself around you. And yet, there was nothing threatening or dangerous about it. Still, your heart leapt in your chest like the one of a caged bird, ready to leave your ribcage to fly away.

You heard Sans' steps behind you, he came closer and closer until he was right beside you. His expression was troubled and kind of annoyed? Curt? As you were searching for words, he took his hand out of his pocket and shoved it in your own jacket pocket. It felt kind of weird and somehow intimate? Sans withdrew his hand, muttered something like “see ya, kid” and turned away to head back to the main road. You were still hovering above ground, embedded in that cyan light. It was sort of warm, like a blanket that softly covered you on a cool night. Slowly, you were carefully put down on your feet and the magic dissipated into thin air. You turned around, but of course Sans had already left.

You took a deep breath. There was something in your pocket that brushed against your arm.  
You stuck your hand inside, cupping a bunch of … sweets? It were freaking Milky Bites, those small milk chocolate eggs that were also known as 'Schoko-Bons' children loved so much.

He'd given you children's sweets.

What the hell was that supposed to mean.


	7. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can not cook.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hOi  
> so this friend of mine has an awesome idea.  
> Undertale Mafia!AU
> 
> and it's so great i almost cried.  
> and guess what.  
> i think . . . she's gonna do it.

“And then he like, just shoved my pockets full of sweets! What the hell was that supposed to mean! At first he's like aaaaall dangerous and stuff and then he just expects us to be friends or what?! He's a freak! A freaking freak!”

You stomped through your room, ready to fight Sans the moment he'd flung himself through the door because he somehow magically heard you insulting him.  
Flowey watched you pass it again, its head lowered in a slight worry of you accidentally kicking or stepping on it. The orange flower pot it was in now, suited it and even though it didn't admit it, you were sure it actually liked it.  
“That sucks,” it agreed and after a short break, it added: “Do you . . . still have some of those sweets?”  
You shot it an angry glare, but dove your hand in your pocket to throw a bonbon in its direction. It hit its pot and Flowey numbly looked down at it.

“You do know, I don't have any hands, right?”  
“Oh, sorry.”  
The potted plant was judging you for your stupidity.

Sighing, you sat cross-legged beside Flowey and removed the wrapping from the chocolate.

“Well, at least he didn't give you Monster Candy. They taste like shit.”  
You stopped and stared at it, face scrunched up in disgust.  
“Seriously?”  
“No, it's just a figure of speech, you idiot.”  
“Oh.”

Placing the choco egg on Flowey's outstretched tongue, you watched it chewing appreciatively. You really wondered by now how his metabolism worked.

“Maybe it was his way to I don't know . . . to thank you? Didn't you say that he mentioned that his brother had a good time?” Flowey assumed and you shrugged, granting yourself a bonbon.  
“Seriously, I don't trust him. But I want to go over to that friendly lady's place.”  
“Then just do it, idiot.”  
“Why don't you come with me this time?” you offered but from the grimace it made, the answer was clear.

“Oh, come one. You can't stay in here forever.”  
“Just see me try.”

You rolled your eyes and sunk on the mattress.

“Don't worry, I'll get you out of here one day. Actually, I think you'd be really good friends with that skeleton-dude.”

Turning around to get some hours of sleep, you didn't notice Flowey's eyes widening upon mentioning Sans.

 

 

You waited for Papyrus, hands stuffed in your pockets as you whipped back and forth on your heels. It was getting colder day by day and you seriously needed to think about supplies. But for now . . . you just couldn't help but smile when you saw Papyrus approaching you with excitedly waving arms.

“HUMAN!” he exclaimed and pulled you into a tight hug. “IT'S GOOD TO SEE YOU AGAIN, I MISSED YOU!”  
Laughing, you hugged him back and slid your arm around his to walk by his side. At first, Papyrus shot you a puzzled look, but walking so close to you, he happily bounced with every step like a jelly bean. It made your day.

“BEFORE I FORGET IT, REMEMBER HOW I MENTIONED MY FRIEND, ALPHYS? I HAVE A LITTLE PRESENT FOR YOU!!” Papyrus said and from his pocket, he drew a little gadget to shove it in your hands. “IT'S A PHONE FOR YOU, HUMAN!”  
“Wait, what?” You stared at the phone. It was exactly like those you could buy in a store. “Wait, I don't have the money to pay for that! I can't take it.”  
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN? IT'S A PRESENT, SHARDY! PRESENTS ARE FOR FREE!”  
“But, this is just . . .”  
You were literally speechless. Of course you'd heard Papyrus offering you this the previous day, but you had not expected those words . . . to be true. But here you were, a brand new phone in your hand. You didn't even know how to use it.

“AND LOOK!” Papyrus continued and fished for his own phone. “I HAVE SAVED MY AND VARIOUS OTHER NUMBERS IN YOUR PHONE BOOK!”

He furiously smashed his thumbs on the screen and a little noise notified you that you had received a message. You looked at the screen, a bright _THE GREAT PAPYRUS_ flashed in front of you and you opened the message. It was a simple: “ _HELLO, HUMAN!! =^D”_

You couldn't help but laugh. Feeling pure joy rushing through you, you eagerly tipped a response.

“ _Hi Papyrus : )”_

Papyrus snickered (it was so adorable, help) and you both made your way to Toriel's house. You were so happy to see them again, especially Frisk. One meeting was enough for you to grow enormously fond of the little boy.  
Upon reaching Toriel's cute house you couldn't help but feel a little nervous though. Did they really have forgiven you for attacking Papyrus? He didn't seem bothered at all, but that was because he was so happy to be around you. You wondered if Papyrus had a lot of human friends. But figuring that this was a very impolite question and clearly none of your business, you kept your mouth shut until you stood in front of the door.

Papyrus thundered his fist against the wood, grinning from one ear to the other (he basically didn't have ears, but you know what I mean). When Toriel opened, you expected her to frown, but nothing of that happened. She smiled, widening her arms to welcome you with an embrace. Why were all monsters so kind? Well, not _all_ but those you had met.

“Welcome, my child. When Papyrus told me that you would come visit again, I was so happy to hear that!” she said and let you come inside. It was warm and smelled like flowers and tea and . . . love.  
“I'm happy to be back, too,” you confessed, feeling how your cheeks became warmer as you undressed your jacket. “I hope Frisk is here, too?”  
“Oh, Frisk is still at school. But it will soon be time to pick him up. He's been so excited since he knew you would come again.”

Hearing that made your smile only grew wider and you followed Toriel in the kitchen, where a bunch of cooking utensils had been prepared for your cooking session. Now there's only one thing you should tell them before starting.

“SHARDY, YOU DO KNOW SPAGHETTI, RIGHT?” Papyrus beamed at you and you nodded, suddenly feeling like you'd eaten a lemon.  
“Yeah, sure. I always cook for me and my room mate!”

_Liar._

“OH WOWIE! THEN YOU MUST BE REALLY GOOD AT IT, RIGHT?!”  
“Of course!”

**Liar.**

“I AM SO HAPPY TO HAVE FOUND YOU, A HUMAN WHO EQUALLY LOVES SPAGHETTI AS MUCH AS I DO!”  
“Yeah, I love spaghetti!”  
Lia— No, wait. That's actually true.

Toriel was very pleased with you both, but as she watched you for a brief second, a questioning look darted across her face and she raised her voice as she said: “Sans, where are you? Why don't you come and greet our new friend?”

Oh, great. Sans was here, too?

You listened for steps. But nobody came.  
Toriel gave you an apologizing look as she took one of the aprons and handed it over to Papyrus.

“He's probably laying on the couch, as always. Go ahead and say hello to him,” she suggested and even though you didn't even know if you wanted to see him, you just nodded awkwardly and went into the living room.  
The TV was running, playing some commercial staring a guy with black hair and alarmingly silver skin(?) as he winked into the camera.

As Toriel had predicted, Sans was slouched on the couch, eye sockets half closed as he dozed. The first thing you noticed was how . . . comfortable he looked? He didn't wear his hoodie, only a grey shirt, on which _bad to the bone_ was imprinted. Watching him made you relax somehow and you trotted over to him.

“Hey,” you greeted and noticed, how he slightly flinched as you talked. Sans opened his eye sockets, little dots of light glued on your form but he remained silent.  
What. Back to ignoring you or what? Coming up with another sentence was suddenly very hard and you jumped in surprise as something rang in your pocket. It was your new phone, you had received another SMS.  
“ _HUMAN, PLEASE COME INTO THE KITCHEN! WE WILL START COOKING!! =D_ ”

Even though you both were only two rooms separated from each other, Papyrus had sent you this message and you chuckled, tipping eagerly back: “ _I'm coming_ ”

Sans was still looking at you and you didn't like it at all. Since he didn't say anything to you, you returned to the kitchen, feeling stiff and tense like a wooden plank. The moment you entered the kitchen, Papyrus threw the apron on your head.

“FINALLY!! DID SANS SAY IF HE WANTED TO HELP US?!”  
“Uhm, not really.”  
“OH, OF COURSE! THAT LAZYBONES!”  
Papyrus shook his head, but wasn't bothered otherwise.  
“WELL THEN, WE WILL START OUR SESSION! PLEASE HUMAN, WASH THE VEGETABLES WHILE I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL CONCERN MYSELF WITH PREPARING MEAT FOR THE DELICIOUS AND IMPORTANT MEATBALLS!”  
“Sure,” you responded and took peppers and tomatoes over to the sink. There was nothing much you could do wrong with that. After making sure they were properly cleaned, you headed back to Papyrus, who was fiercely punching inside a bowl.  
You stared at him.

“OH, VERY NICELY DONE!! NOW, PLEASE SMASH THEM INTO TINY PIECES SO WE CAN MIX THEM WITH THE TOMATO SAUCE I'VE BROUGHT WITH ME.”

Did he just now really said 'smash'? Maybe monsters cooked entirely different than humans . . . .

Since you weren't really sure what to do, Toriel was a great aid when she came over to you and handed you a knife.  
“Small dices are sufficient,” she smiled at you. It was the first time you noticed the glasses on her nose. A book was laid open on the kitchen table and you assumed she needed it for reading. She was like a mother you never had; a caring, calm and sophisticated woman that never let her temper get the better of herself. You mumbled a “thanks” and returned to your preparations. The red colour of the vegetables seemed to mock you as you stared down, unsure in what order to cut them. You'd never done something like that.

Well, let's start with the pepper (?)

You took a good hold of it and made your first cut. Well. Doesn't look too bad, pumpkin.

Thanks to some miracle, you somehow managed to cut them into tiny pieces, not really rectangularly, but it was fine.  
Now, to the tomatoes!  
They were . . . a little bit more complicated. Every time you tried to slice into the soft flesh, the blade slipped and it annoyed you so much that you just somehow rammed the tip of the knife inside. Right through it. Right in your finger.  
. . . . you're so fucking stupid.

Pressing your lips hard together, you made a pathetic sound that was close to a dying cat. Papyrus, who was finally done with smashing the meat, shot you a surprised look and when he saw the blood dripping from your finger, he cried out in shock.

“OH NO! THE HUMAN HAS HURT HERSELF!”

Toriel was immediately on her feet like a guard dog. After two quick steps she was by your side and examined your wound, face twisted in pure worry.  
“Does it hurt? I will bring something to stop the bleeding. Papyrus, please press that against her finger,” Toriel directed Papyrus to the counter, where a kitchen towel was. You wanted to inform them that it wasn't that bad and you didn't want them to dirty one of their things just because of your clumsiness. But Papyrus was so quick, he was already back and stood right in front of you, carefully wrapping the cloth around your finger.  
“PLEASE DON'T BREAK, SHARDY. WE'VE JUST RECENTLY BECOME SUCH GOOD FRIENDS! I DON'T WANT TO LOSE YOU!”  
“I-It's not like I'm dying, Papyrus,” you awkwardly laughed when a low chuckle from the door got your attention and your eyes met Sans'. He was suddenly there, leaning against the door frame with his little dots of light on you, eye sockets slightly narrowed in amusement.

“ _knife_ to see ya, kiddo,” he smirked and you rolled your eyes. Of course, now he was eager to talk to you after you got hurt.

“SANS!” Papyrus made an angry face. “WEREN'T YOU SUPPOSED TO PICK FRISK UP FROM SCHOOL?! WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE, LAZYBONES?!”  
“oh, you know. just chillin' and making some _cutting_ remarks.”  
“SANS! STOP BOONDOGGLING AND GO GET THE TINY HUMAN!!” Papyrus cried in frustration and Sans snickered, winked at you (WTF) and left.  
“Your brother seriously just . . . confuses me,” you admitted, somehow feeling exhausted and defeated.  
“OH, HE'S JUST A LAZYBONES! I WONDER WHAT HE WOULD DO WITHOUT SUCH A COOL GUY LIKE ME TAKING CARE OF HIM!” He sighed heavily as Toriel came back, a patch in her white paw. She applied it on your cleaned finger, running her finger softly over your skin.  
“That should do,” she smiled. “I think I will help you. The more the merrier, right?”  
“THAT'S A GREAT IDEA! YOU CAN TAKE A BREAK, SHARDY! WE WILL MAKE YOU SOME GREAT SPAGHETTI!”  
In other words: they took over before you were able to hurt yourself again.

You sat down on the chair, watching and talking to them as they cooked. It were some great news to hear that Toriel was a teacher but it somehow didn't surprise you that much because you were able to see how great she handled children. She made you a cup of tea and even considered backing a butterscotch-pie again. Gosh, this was just so nice and perfect and you wished you could stay there forever.

 

  
Diner was already done when the front door got smacked open and heavy stomps were heard. A deep voice muttered something you couldn't understand and when you followed Toriel's puzzled look, you were able to see Sans' blue hood before he disappeared in the living room. Frisk followed him. The boy stopped in the entryway to the kitchen and looked over at you and you gasped because Frisk's face was dominated by bruises, cuts and a chapped lip.  
Toriel jumped to her feet and hurried over to the boy, kneeling down to examine his injuries.  
“Oh no, what happened, Frisk? Who did this to you?”

Frisk only shrugged and managed to give her a forced smile.

“well, what do you think who it was, tori. of course those stupid, little, fuck—”  
Sans entered the kitchen but when he saw you and his brother, he quickly cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his pockets.  
“fuggy. fuggy rooms are terrible, right?”

You stared at him. What an entrance.

Papyrus made a face in pure horror as he also bend down to get a closer look at Frisk.  
“OH NO! ARE YOU ALRIGHT, TINY HUMAN?! PLEASE DON'T BE BROKEN!”  
“Come with me, Frisk. I have to look at those horrible injuries,” Toriel insisted and she took Frisk's hand, who quickly turned around to wave at you with his free hand.  
“I WILL COME WITH YOU! FRISK WILL NEED MY ATTENDENCE!” Papyrus quickly followed them so you were left alone with Sans. Well if that wasn't convenient.  
He'd ignored you until now and you were sure he wasn't going to talk to you. Especially not after he had picked up Frisk beaten up like that.

Sans groaned and ran his phalanges across his face. With a heavy sigh, he walked over to the fridge and opened it to dive deep inside. When he leaned back, he had a bottle of ketchup in his hand. You watched him in tense silence as he took a big gulp and you expected his shirt to become red because he didn't have a stomach or skin. But his shirt remained grey.

“that's exactly the reason why i don't trust humans, pal,” Sans suddenly started as he leaned against the counter, watching you behind half-closed eye sockets, the pinpricks of light dimmed as the darkness around them got even blacker. “one can never be sure of what fucking shit they're up to.”

Oh, since his brother was gone, it was okay to swear?

“You mean humans did this to Frisk?”  
“well, didn't hear of any monsters attacking a human,” Sans pointed out and reflexively you crossed your arms over your chest. Yeah, he was giving you _that_ look.  
“But Frisk didn't do anything, right? He's just a kid.”  
“well, just because one's a kid it doesn't mean one's innocent, dude. didn't one of your great philosopher-dudes write something like that?”  
You stared at him in wild confusion. What the hell was he talking about. Sans gave you a lazy grin and shrugged.  
“whatever. _hippo_ -thetically, being young doesn't promise you staying blameless.”  
You were sincerely wondering if the ketchup made Sans drunk. Reading your confused expression, Sans chuckled lowly to himself and took another sip.

“it's those stupid kids in his class who beat him up. guess they see frisk as a freak cuz he hangs out with us. cuz we're his family.”  
“That's . . . cruel,” you whispered, lowering your eyes at the ground. Something about Sans' gaze felt heavy on your skin, like he could see right through you and detect all of your faults and sins. Shifting nervously on your seat, you eagerly brooded over a topic you could talk about without worsen his mood.

“Toriel mentioned earlier that she's a teacher,” you suddenly remembered. “Why can't she just talk to those kids?”  
“cuz she's not a teacher at frisk's school. she's responsible for monsters only. your government doesn't want a mixed school with both species.”  
The way he stressed _your government_ made it sound like it was actually your fault that discrimination existed.

“and even though we have a human as our ambassador, it's seems to be pretty useless,” Sans added and you wondered for a split second who he could mean by that, when immediately a picture of Frisk showed up in your head.  
“What? I mean, Frisk is like . . . nine? Or ten years old. He is your ambassador?  
“he's actually eight.”  
Un – fucking – believable. But well, _he_ was the one who'd freed the monsters. It was only logical that he was the one who reunited monsters and mankind. Still shocking, because at his young age he'd had accomplished so much more than you in your useless 20 years. Didn't make you so proud now, did it?

“and this isn't about age, kiddo. it's about what you have in here,” Sans said and pointed his forefinger on his chest, right above the heart. “and here.”  
He moved his hand up to his skull, where it rested on his right temple beside his closed eye.  
“Could you not call me kiddo? I'm way past this.”  
It irritated you and watching how Sans' grin changed into a lazy, satisfied smile, you shot him a glare through narrowed eyes.  
“well, you're really acting like a kid, bucko. what did ya say? 20 years?” Sans laughed to himself, leaning an arm against the counter as he pointed at you. “i always thought _i_ am a real bonehead. but you, kiddo, you take it to a whole new scale.”

You felt your cheeks heat up as you tightened your grip around the chair until your knuckles turned white.

“I'm sure I'm older than you!” was the only response you could give him back and his reaction clearly showed how amused he was and that your counter was so lame that it proved how immature you were. Sans clutched his stomach and cracked-up as if he'd heard the best joke in years.  
“haha, yeah, really funny. that was very _humerus_ , but listen, kidd. _tibia_ honest, those old bones here are 23.”

You felt your eyes widen and inspected him from top to bottom. He was smaller than you, yet older. I mean, that's nothing spectacular but it still had caught you off-guard because you always imagined that if someone was smaller than you, they automatically _had_ to be younger, too! And (naturally) taller people had to be older.

“H-how old is Papyrus?” you wanted to know and with a knowing grin, as if Sans was able to predict every of your thoughts, he answered: “paps is 19. yeah, i'm the older one. though it's exhausting sometimes, cuz like i said, i like doing absolutely nothing.”

Papyrus was younger than you. How was this even— Wait, actually . . . you weren't _that_ surprised to hear that.

The sound of loud footsteps caught your attention when Frisk came literally flying in your arms. His face was patched up and he wore his happy smile proudly like war paint. Nothing was able to baffle this child.

“You made spaghetti?” he climbed on your lap and pounded his hands on the table. “I want some of your spaghetti!”  
“WE WILL ALL EAT SPAGHETTI NOW!” Papyrus said as he was the second to come back and Frisk threw his arms in the air to show his excitement. He'd almost hit you in the face and that made Sans laugh.  
“sounds great, bro. but i think i'll pass and go over to grillby's so there's more for you guys,” Sans declined and put the ketchup back in the fridge. Papyrus made a face but shrugged and danced over to one of the cupboards to get plates. Toriel soon joined you; some hints in her face showed that she was still worried but she was strong and put on a brave smile.  
It felt good watching them, they were a big family. Unconsciously, you looked at the door were Sans had been standing.  
You noticed something.

It was the first decent conversation you'd had with Sans, even though it mostly consisted of him calling you dumb.


	8. Golden Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you discover one of Sans' secrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been so long but I'm back!! Here we go!! Introducing a thing I really think is cool!!

Since a long time it was one of those rare moments you went home with a pleasant and satisfied feeling. Dining with the monsters and Frisk had been quite entertaining, he had told you so many stories about his school days that it made you long for your own childhood. If you had been a hard-working, enthusiastic person, maybe you'd at least have a decent apartment and a job. But oh well, you can't change that and what else is there for you to do but to try and make the best of it.  
(But you're not quite good at that either, so I'm sorry, cupcake, there's nothing much you're able to do and— Ok. I'll be silent for now.)

You arrived at 11 pm and closed the door with your hip, humming to yourself the melody of a nursery rhyme you faintly remembered one of the wardens always singing to you children when it was bedtime. Thinking back, she had always sung horrible, depressing songs to you when she had dragged her limping body through the aisles. The lyrics of one were still clearly visible in your head:

_Ring-a-ring-a-roses_   
_A pocket full of posies_   
_Atishoo! Atishoo!_   
_We all fall down_

“What is that? It sounds awful.”  
You jumped when Flowey's bark greeted you. You hadn't realized that you were singing out loud and quickly shut your mouth, cheeks burning with embarrassment. One of the street lamps outside your window, that functioned as your only light source at night, threw its orange, dull shine inside the room and illuminated Flowey's form. Something about that was really saddening. Flowey's head hung long, as if it was way to heavy for it to carry. You gave it an apologetic smile and shrugged the jacket off your shoulders.

“Sorry, I was lost in my mind. But guess what, I've got something for you,” you said and showed Flowey a cloth bag in which you had some leftovers from the spaghetti. Flowey eyed the back suspiciously but when you placed the box filled with food in front of it, it pressed its lips together and remained docile.

“You'll like it. It's the best spaghetti I've had in years!” you swooned and sat cross-legged in front of Flowey to feed it. Look at you, sitting in front of a flower, feeding him spaghetti. What has your life become? But something about it was strange today. It didn't make fun of you, it didn't give you a mean comment. Flowey was just silent. He ate like a behaved, sweet child without making a scene at all. After a while filled with silence, he finally lifted its head and watched you with black, round eyes.

“How was dinner? Did the douchebag skeleton do something again?” Flowey asked and you stopped rolling spaghetti on the fork to look at him.

“Well,” you started, thinking back to your little talk with Sans. “He didn't hurt me, if that's what you want to know. We talked and it was strange. There's this little boy living with that goat-woman and it seems that school's rough with him. He came beaten up and injured. He is such a sweet child, Flowey.” You sighed, suddenly feeling sorrow looming over you like a big, dark cloud. Frisk didn't deserve something like that. No one did. It was a dreadful thought that people would hurt others just to show that they're in some way superior. Or just because they got a kick out of hurting or humiliating people. Humans were really some kind of freaks. Lost in your mind about Frisk, you didn't catch Flowey's murmured “Still such a wimp” but when you looked at it, questioning, it just opened its mouth for you to shove another fork of spaghetti in it. Flowey chewed patiently and after swallowing, it said: “You should tell the kid that if he wants those brats to stop, he should fight back.”  
“I don't think he's one to use violence. Frisk is a good child and he won't hurt anybody.”

Flowey flinched when you mentioned Frisk, but you didn't notice as your eyes were glued on the ground and murmured: “Maybe someone could talk to his teacher.”

“Yeah, whatever. Feed me!”  
You rolled your eyes, but complied and continued to do so until half of the spaghetti was gone and you put it away to save it for the next day. Flowey wasn't really keen of this idea, but didn't complain any further and moved on the mattress so get comfortable. It rested its head against one of your self-improvised pillows and watched you observantly with its black, slim eyes. Something was very strange about it. It usually wasn't that quite and whenever it found a chance to make fun of you or insult you, Flowey would immediately grasp it.

You twiddled your thumbs.  
“Are you okay?” you asked, glancing at it.  
It didn't seem amused at all.  
“We're not talking about my feelings. What is this. A psychiatry?”  
You were surprised it knew what a psychiatry was.  
“No, you're just... You don't look happy.”  
“Well, I'm a flower. I'm not even supposed to have a face.”  
“You know what I mean,” you responded a little irritated. You had been living together since six months by now and it still frustrated you that Flowey didn't want to talk about itself. Well, maybe six months weren't enough for Flowey to warm up. It was just unfair since it knew the majority of your hardships and past and you didn't know anything about that little golden flowers.

You scooted over to its side, took its pot and placed it in your lap. Flowey shot you a warning glare, but you ignored it.

“Hey, we're friends, right?”  
“Says who?”  
“I want you to know that you can trust me, Flowey.”  
“Maybe I don't want to, you idiot.”

There was a heavy silence around you, but you refused to back off.

“If you need me, I'll be there, okay. It doesn't have to be tomorrow or next week, but I just want to be sure about us. I'm here, Flowey. You don't need to handle your burdens on your own.”

Flowey sunk its head and for a brief moment you expected it to nuzzle against your hand. But it just lingered above your fingers, voice just a whisper when it said: “I'll think about it.”

 

 

The next day came and you decided it was time for you to go back on trash-scavenging. One could never know what little treasures could be found in one of the garbage bins hidden in narrow alleys. People would throw away really useful stuff just because it was old or didn't look nice. It was such a waste and made you sad because you, who had nothing, were so glad to find something that would make life easier. It bothered you how easily things were thrown away. Clothes, food, blankets, papers. Children.

You straightened your shoulders and instead of visiting your usual spot, you came to the conclusion that it would be better to go to another place. You had the whole day available for you because Papyrus was on his job (he'd told you that he'd take care of some monster children once in a while to help Toriel) and there was nothing much left for you to do anyway. Flowey was the usual self this morning when it had warned you to come back with nothing. It had reassured you that Flowey was okay.

The cloth bag was ready to be filled when you approached an empty alley, you only passed usually. Luckily, it was still pretty early and to your advantage, the majority of other homeless people slept their drunkenness off. It should be enough time for you to look for stuff and then head back.

The first bin contained a burnt pan you couldn't use because you didn't have a stove. But well... maybe it'd be still convenient to have one. You continued to search for stuff, but found empty packages, rotting leftovers, blankets with holes (which you still took with you) and shoes of various sizes that didn't fit you.

Well, you still had some money from the Richards. Maybe it was time for you t get at least a new, warmer jacket.

Something clattered behind you.

You whirled around and in front of you towered to monsters and you had to clamp your mouth shut to hold back a yell, because one of them . . . was a green alligator. No offence against monsters but when one looked like a giant reptile, ready to devour you, you couldn't help but feel scared.

“'Scuuuuse me but, like, what are YOU doing here?” the alligator monster demanded. She wore a primarily pink shawl with yellow and blue details on the sides. Yellow hair flowed into cute curls on her side and her lips were coloured in a soft pink.

“Yeah, this is, like, OUR territory,” the other girl, a stout, purple cat creature in a set of blue overalls with yellow buttons and tufts of yellow fur coming out from under it on either side added, her yellow cat-eyes narrowed at you. She had black hair with a blue streak in it and a yellow earring on her left ear that flashed like a drawn knife.

You gulped.  
“I'm, well I just—“ You looked for an escape. “I mean—“

“Hey, it's totally rude to not look your opposite in the eyes while talking!” the alligator monster flicked her fingers in front of your face and you jumped back in surprise.  
“Like, TOTALLY rude!” her cat-friend agreed, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

This was so awkward.  
“I was looking for some things. Stuff and so on,” you slowly responded and those girls exchanged a look.  
“Stuff you want to sell people?” cat-monster pressed on.  
“No?”  
“Why didn't you say so!” alligator-girl exclaimed and suddenly threw her arms around you. “We thought that you, like, wanted to start a business. That'd be soooo uncool!”  
“Like, REALLY uncool!” cat-girl laughed and you managed to give them a nervous smile. What was going on.

“So, the name's Bratty.” — “I'm Catty!” they introduced themselves at the same time and you gave them your name in return because why not. They seemed to be funny people?

“It's the first time we see you around here,” Bratty said as she occupied herself with looking through one of the bins you'd inspected before. “You new here?”

“Not new like in I moved to this town. It's just the first time I look around here,” you admitted because it was quite obvious that they were scavengers like you. Catty beside you giggled behind a paw and said: “This is, like, really GOOD garbage, isn't it?”

You didn't know what to respond to that so you made a low “Hmmm” and took a step aside to give her space as she rummaged through the garbage. What an odd duo. And what did they mean with selling garbage to people. Who'd even buy that.

“So, like, what do you do for a living?” Bratty suddenly asked, throwing an empty cardboard to the side.  
“Well uhm,” you hesitated. “I breathe.”

Catty howled with laughter and Bratty rolled her eyes. “Duh, who doesn't?”

“So, do you, like, want to help us find cool stuff to sell?” Catty suddenly grabbed your shoulders with her purple paws and shook you excitedly. “We could totally use your help!”  
“But Catty, that means we have to pay her!” Bratty interrupted and raised one eyebrow.  
“OH!” Catty paused for approximately two seconds. “So, do you, like, want to help us for free? Do a good deed?”

You raised your shoulders uncertainly.

“I don't really have that much time,” you told them and Catty shrugged before she let you go and joined her friend.  
“Well, sweet cheeks, if you need something, we can sell you good garbage,” Catty said simultaneously as Bratty said: “We can sell you REALLY good garbage.” They gave you half-hearted goodbye waves and you sighed, turned around and left the alley to get back home.

It was pretty much visible that they didn't want you around anymore. But upon reaching the main street, something caught your eye and you stopped immediately. Golden flowers. Big, golden flowers adorned the windowsill of a small, cute shop you noticed the first time. Apparently it was a tea shop; artistic letters composed the name _Golden Dream_ above a dark door. Its atmosphere was so friendly and welcoming that you decided to take a look inside through the windows. You approached the shop and lifted your fingers to carefully caress the yellow petals. They were as soft as Flowey's but the difference was that Flowey was warm. There was undoubtedly some energy in Flowey that allowed him to breathe and live, energy that must be magic.

Magic.  
It was so strange. What was it? Why couldn't human use magic and what made it so special?  
As you glanced through the window, you noticed that no one was inside. The owner was probably on his break and even if he'd have been there, you had no reason to interact with him.

You shouldered your bag and took a step back.

“Hello, human. How may I help you?” a soft, deep voice reached you and you spun around, only to open your mouth in awe. In front of you towered a big monster with an intimidating stature. He had broad shoulders, a blond mane and beard and on his head loomed two large curving horns. He wore a brown coat and a fuzzy yellow scarf as he looked at you with light brown, friendly eyes. And he was a goat-monster. A goat-monster like Toriel with slightly pinched muzzle and white, soft fur. Big paws held on to bags and he stood right in front of the door to that shop. Could he be the owner?

Remembering that he'd asked you a question, you quickly straightened your back and cranked your head back to look him in the eyes.

“No, I don't need anything. I just saw those flowers and I think they're really pretty,” you answered honestly and that goat-man chuckled.

“They are indeed. I brought those Golden Flowers with me, they are a reminder of all the joy and hardships I had to face. But I don't want to let you stay here in the cold. Please, come inside,” he offered you and with his free hand, he took a small key from his pockets to unlock the entry.

You hesitated and shifted your weight from one foot to another but then he smiled again at you and somehow your worries disappeared like off-taking butterflies. You gave him a determined nod and entered that cute tea-shop after him. A sweet scent engulfed you the moment you stepped in and you rolled your shoulders in a relaxing motion. There was a large bar in the back of the room and everywhere were round tables with chairs and nice decoration. This was a place you could see yourself visiting with friends. If you had some. Well...Papyrus was your friend. And Toriel and Frisk too! You were sure, they'd enjoy it.

“Well, what can I bring you, dear? Is there any flavour you prefer?”, the owner asked you as you sat down near the door. You placed the bag beside you and reached for the menu. It was a thin, slim card with a variety of different types of tea on the front side and on the back were different sorts of pie.

“I don't have tea often,” you admitted shyly, glanced outside and then back on the card. “Maybe I'll try the Golden Flower tea?”  
The man smiled and nodded as he worked behind the bar, coat and scarf taken off and replaced by a big apron.

“To tell you the truth, dear, I don't have your kind as customers quite often. It was a really nice surprise to see a human adoring those flowers,” he said as he prepared your tea, smiling to himself. “It is a pleasure to have you here.”

Why were monsters always so much kinder than humans?  
You didn't know that man, but hearing that and looking at his hunched form, as if he'd wanted to make him smaller than he was, made your heart tighten with sadness.

You tapped your feet against each other and thought about something nice you could give him back. That you were happy that monster surfaced. That you welcomed them with all of you heart. That you were really glad to have found such a cute, friendly shop.

But your mouth remained sealed.

The goat-man brought you your tea that was in a pretty, yellow-orange colour. You saw your reflection; your dull hair and your pale cheeks. And still, looking in your eyes, you determined that you were still pretty in your own way. Somehow. Somewhere deep inside you.

You took a deep breath and opened your mouth to tell him that you were happy to be his customer.

But then, the door swung open. A little jingle rung out you didn't have noticed before. White smoke dissipated into the ceiling as the figure breathed through closed teeth.

A guy stood in the door frame, a bag in one hand and a cigarette in the other.  
He looked around and his eyes landed on the owner, then on you.  
His ever-lasting grin seemed to freeze as he noticed you staring at the smoke between his phalanges.

Beside you, the goat-monster sighed heavily.

“Sans,” he said upset. “How often do I need to tell you, stop taking your smoke in my shop. The more so as it is not good for health, young man!”


	9. Cooking or not Cooking — That is the question

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you don't know yet, that you have a smoking kink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been some time and this isn't the greatest chapter Q____Q But I promise, things will get spicy!

It was unbelievable.

Sans smoked? That was so weird. He didn't even have lungs, so why would he do something like that? But then again, why did you care?  
Sans flicked the stub outside and closed the door behind him, avoiding your eyes. He lifted his arm and shook the bag slightly.

“your echo flowers,” Sans said curtly, little drops of sweat forming on his skull. “came to drop 'em off, asgore.”

Asgore. That sounded familiar.  
But you couldn't remember where you had heard this name.  
“Oh, I did not expect you to be that fast!” the goat-monster, Asgore, smiled happily and approached Sans to take his goods.  
Sans still didn't look at you. “no problem. it's just a _skull_ 's throw away.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets, shifted from one foot to another and then used the right one to scratch his left fibula with the front of his slipper while Asgore went over to the bar where the cash register was he'd to use to pay Sans.

“So,” Asgore cleared his throat and said as casually as possible. “How are Toriel and Frisk?”  
You sat up.  
Sans hid in the fur of his hood.

“You're an acquaintance of Toriel and Frisk?” you turned around to face Asgore who looked puzzled from you to Sans, then nodded.  
“I do. What a surprise. Sans, you know this human?”  
“uhm, sort of. she's shardy.”  
“What a coincidence!” Asgore laughed as he came back with a stack of bills he handed Sans, completely not bothered by how weird your name was. “What a small world this is.”  
“uh-hu. too small,” Sans muttered and you expected him to leave immediately, but he took his payment, stuffed it into its pocket, strolled over to your table and sat across from you. Well, if this wasn't awkward.

“toriel and the kid are fine by the way. just come over and see for yourself,” he shrugged and rested his chin on his hand, leaning in your direction. Buddy never heard of personal space, huh?

“Oh,” Asgore's shoulders fell. “I doubt that is a good idea.”  
You took a sip from your tea, unsure if you should ask. But luckily, Asgore noticed your eyes on him and he gave you a sad smile.  
“I— Toriel and I, we were married. Back underground. It would be nice to see her again, but . . . things are complicated.”

Oh, wow.  
WOW!

The cup in your hand almost slipped from your fingers as realisation hit you. Asgore. Like in KING Asgore. Like in king of all monsters-Asgore.  
Why didn't you notice it before?

“Y-you're Toriel's ex! King Asgore! Papyrus told me about you and— I-It is an honour, your majesty!” you stammered, unsure if you should get up and bow to him. Asgore looked stunned, but quickly smiled at you and shook his head.  
“Please,” he chuckled, “no need for formalities. As you can see, I am a simple man right now. Just treat me as one of your own.”

From the corner of your eyes, you could see Sans snickering quietly to himself. What a jerk.

“at least frisk would be happy to see ya. don't be such a stubborn git.”  
Asgore sighed again, you got the impression he did that a lot, and finally gave a weak nod.  
“Okay. Maybe I'll come by. But it would be best if you, Papyrus and the human would be nearby. Otherwise I doubt that Toriel will accept my presence.”

Well, that sounded really harsh. Toriel didn't struck you as someone who'd carry a grudge against someone, but you didn't now their story. And it surely wasn't your business.

The last drops of the sweet tea tasted as good as the first and you were actually sad that you were done. As you considered ordering another, your sleeve was tucked at. You turned your head around and stared into Sans' dark eyeholes.

“buddy, it's time for us to go.”  
Before you could respond to that, puzzled as you were because you had no business with Sans, Asgore came to you and said: “You are going already?”  
“yeah, i'm taking her home. one can never know if a human suddenly jumps out and attacks ya with a knife or shard,” Sans shrugged, smirking smugly as he gave you a quick glance. You flinched slightly.

“Don't say that, Sans,” Asgore shook his head. “I believe in humans and monsters living together peacefully.”

And remorse kicked back in. Quickly, you looked for your worn out purse, but Asgore played one of his bag, white paw-hands on your shoulder.  
“It is on the house, my dear. Toriel's friends are also my friends. Please come by again. It would be nice to have a little chat with you,” he said and you muttered a “Thank you”. At the same time, you wished you could tell Asgore that you didn't want to go with Sans because you still weren't sure if you could trust him or if he would attack you again. You were never sure when it came to Sans. You didn't know anything about him at all.

Sans and you gave Asgore your goodbyes and left the shop. Not knowing where to go, you just strolled along with Sans, your hands gripping your bag as if your life depended on it. Sans noticed it and gave you a low chuckle.

“chill, bucko. wouldn't want you to _blow off_.”  
“What?”  
“you know, like _puff out_. like _smoke_.”  
“Where do you want to go with that?”

Sans remained silent. He scratched the back of his skull; fascinatingly there were again those little drops of sweat on his forehead and you seriously started to wonder how this worked.

“okay, listen. i'll be frank with ya. you weren't supposed to see me smokin.”  
“Why not?”  
“because...” Sans' little white pinpricks focused on you, then on the ground. “no one's supposed to know.”  
“That you smoke? How does it even work?” You just had to ask.

Sans looked at you and then he grinned, a little smugly but not in a threatening or intimidating way. It could actually be considered as a friendly smile? You waited excitedly for Sans' answer.  
He winked at you. “magic.”

You couldn't stop the groan rising from your throat.   
“but yeah. don't tell toriel and papyrus. especially not papyrus.”  
“I mean, you're a skeleton," you said slowly. “It doesn't harm you, does it?”  
“aww, you care for me?”

You felt heat rush to your cheeks. “No. I'm not.”  
Sans shrugged. Since you had the feeling things had calmed down between you two, you had the courage to continue asking: “Papyrus told me you have different jobs. And Asgore is one of your bosses?”  
Sans didn't answer immediately. He was probably pondering how much he could tell you without it backfiring on him. In the end, he just shrugged a second time and said: “yup. someone's gotta pay the bills. papyrus helps occasionally over at the monster school, the kids like him and are happy for some variety. i run some errands here and there. that's it.”

You continued walking in silence for a moment.  
“What are echo flowers?”  
Sans huffed a laugh and titled his head to the side as he looked at you.  
“you, kid, have a lot of questions, eh? why not go back and try it for yourself,” he suggested with a raised eyebrow bone. You pressed your lips together. You'd thought about visiting Asgore again. But were you actually allowed? A sigh left your lips.

You reached a junction, your cue to part ways. But as you were about to tell Sans, someone else caught up with you. Toriel hurried over to you, her hands full with shopping bags but she was really happy to see you.

“Good day!” she greeted you. “How glad I am to see you!”  
“hey, tori.” Sans grinned up to her. It was obviously not the same way he looked at you, but what did you expect. It just felt like they shared more than a normal friendship. “what's going on? you heading somewhere?”  
“Yes, I need to go back to the school, there is some paperwork I need to finish. But I also need to prepare lunch. Would you both please do me a favour? Please head home and prepare lunch. After I have finished, I am going to pick up Frisk and we will be heading home immediately. Thank you so much!”

And with that, she pushed one bag in your hand, the other in Sans' and hurried back the way she came from. You exchanged a look with Sans.

“so, uh. cooking it is, then?”  
You opened your mouth but closed it like a fish. You couldn't cook. Could Sans cook? How did you get in that situation.

 

 

“okay. easy. even baby bones can do this. we just throw everything in a pan and it's done, right.”  
Sans, who'd shrugged off his jacket and stood beside you in a white shirt, _Schroedinger's Cat is_ ~~_Not_ ~~ _Dead_ was imprinted on it and apparently he had a lot of those funny shirts. His arms were crossed over his chest as you both stared down at the ingredients Toriel had bought. You didn't even know where to start. From what you remembered about your cooking session with Papyrus, you knew you had to wash the vegetables . . . and then? Sans took one of the broccoli and inspected it suspiciously like it could suddenly come to life and jump in his face.

“do we fry that. or boil?”  
“Toriel didn't mention what she wanted to do, did she?”

Sans shook his head and threw it back on the counter beside the second.

“from what it looks, i guess she wanted to make a casserole. but well . . . with that.” He gestured at two packages of tofu. It didn't look tasty at all.  
“Does Papyrus know how to do that?” you asked but Sans laughed and rose one of his eyebrow bones. “nope. spaghetti is all he lives for. guess we just _spa-go-tti_ and search the internet for recipes.”  
Sans pointed with finger guns at you. You frowned.

And you actually found a recipe with tofu included. Since you'd never tried it, you actually looked forward to it. But well, the execution. No one of you knew how long you should boil the noodles and vegetables. And frying the tofu didn't go well at all. It was still in its beige colour. And it didn't smell good at all. Seriously not. You didn't even notice when Sans had started eating the feta cheese that was supposed to go on top of everything. He'd put everything in a bowl and added a big portion of ketchup. He even offered you a spoon but you expected it just to taste like ketchup and declined.

In the end, it tasted like it looked: awful. Really. Awful.

“well,” Sans slowly put away the fork. “this is bad.”  
“What are we going to do? Toriel will be so upset!” you said, already feeling the heavy feeling of guilt because Toriel had trusted you and you, what a surprise, had fucked up.

“don't worry,” Sans smirked. “i got a great idea.”

You expected him to miraculously save the way too salty, not nearly ready cooked food but to your surprise, Sans grabbed his hoodie, put it on and waved for you to follow him.  
“Where are we going? And what do we do with this?” You pointed at the food and Sans just strolled over, took it and threw it in the garbage. Baking dish included.

“we're going over to grillby's. getting edible, decent lunch for everyone,” he answered and even though you looked at him questioningly, he didn't answer and nodded to the door. “let's go before i become skin and bones. need to stuff my belly.”

You had nothing else to do but to follow him, pondering about who this Grillby was. Maybe another friend of them. Sans led you to a secluded part of town where spotting humans became harder and harder because this place belonged to the monsters. There were so many outside and once in a while, some turned around to look at you. It was strange and you wondered if this was the same for the monsters when humans looked at them. It felt like you were an exhibit from a museum that showed curiosities. Unconsciously, you stuck really close to Sans while walking and he seemed really amused about that, but didn't say anything about it. Your destination turned out to be a nice building with orange coloured glass and a big, dark wooden door. Above the entrance were the letters _Grillby's_. Honestly, you certainly weren't brave enough to enter it by yourself. Since it was located in a monster area, it undoubtedly was primarily visited by them. But Sans entered the house as if he owned it and he didn't turn around to make sure that you followed him. You just did.

Warm air, the chatting of other people and the smell of delicious food welcomed you and you somehow hoped that no one would really show interest in you. But oh, how wrong you were. Because the second Sans set a foot in, everyone just turned their head around and greeted him.

“Hey, Sans!”  
“Sans, how are you?”  
“Geez, weren't you here just about twenty minutes ago?”  
“Haya, Sansy~!”

Sans talked to everyone. You didn't know why, but it somehow surprised you that he was that popular. You followed him to the bar that was at the other side of the entrance and tried not to pay too much attention how some of the monsters looked at you. To your relief, you weren't the only human here. Some others sat at tables with monsters and they seemed having really nice chats.

Sans slid on a barstool and gestured for you to sit beside him, which you had followed immediately if it wasn't for the bartender of this pub. It was a flame-man. With glasses on his face (even though he didn't have a nose and it mysteriously didn't melt) and a towel in his hand (this too, didn't catch flames) he greeted Sans with a silent nod.

“hey there, grillby. we take five burgers with fries. and wrap 'em up nicely,” Sans ordered as he leaned his hands on the counter. “and don't look at me like that. i didn't make another pie.”  
Grilly sighed, put away the towel and went through a door over which a green sign hung, showing that it was a _fire exit_. You sat beside Sans and allowed yourself to relax a little.  
“I guess this will be fine, right? Everyone loves hamburgers and fries,” you tried to start another conversation. Sans made an approving “hmmmm” and leaned his chin on one of his hands that was placed on the counter.  
“now, you know what ya need to now 'bout me, pal. how about we turn it around?”  
Suddenly your lips were dry. You quickly glanced at him. Sans was looking at you, a lazy smile on his face

You weren't going anywhere.


End file.
